©Tfieairv 

















'T 




Class _ELZ£djT 

Book. , __£ 

Copyright N°. /_ 



COPXRIGHT DEPOSIT; 



American Soldier 
Ballads 



BY 



F. B. CAMP 

Author of "Mexican Border Ballads". 



1917 

GEO. RICE & SONS 

Los Angeles 



A°v 



^*>V N 



V 



COPTEIGHT, 1917, BY 

GEO. RICE & SONS 



HFC 17 1917 
©CU479573 



Dedicated to 

Major General H. A. Greene, U. S. A. 

friend, man, soldier, 

whose personal dualities of 

soldier and man i have endeavored 

to blend with all the ballads in this 

little volume for the benefit of 

all of uncle sam's soldiers 

who are waging the war of 

"liberty" 

for the freedom ov 

the world 

The Auth©r 



FOREWORD 

MISCELLANEOUS ballads pertinent to the war and 
the American soldier, each ballad being a true 
incident taken from present day conditions or a 
chapter from the everyday life of the American Soldier. Not 
literary gems such as the real poets have written, not real 
poems possessing perfect metre, not dazzling essays composed 
by a master mind, but simply a humble collection of terse 
jingles and lilting rhymes, written by one who has been and 
still is a soldier in Uncle Sam's army. Each verse conveying 
a truth, some humorous, some solemn, some sarcastic and 
caustic and some foolish, but each endowed with a subtle kick, 
a pricking point and a real meaning. Not artificial, not social- 
istic, not anarchistic, not bigoted nor running along any 
special groove, but roaming at random and touching the real 
things of the present day, both outside and inside the ranks 
of the army. Written for the men in the armies of Uncle 
Sam, the regular units, the volunteer organizations, the 
National Guard and the National Army, with the fond hope 
and sincere wish that they will read them in the same spirit 
in which they are written and that the reading of them will 
enable them to pass away many happy hours and help create 
a feeling of goodfellowship and unity that will be everlasting. 

Not mine dear Longfellow's gift of song, 

To whose rich notes our country daily sings; 
Just mine the power to thrill the soldier throng, 

And wake their souls to dreams of nobler things. 
Yet, if by chance my feeble strains are heard, 

By some who hear them ere their force be spent, 
If by their echoes others have been stirred, 

Why my "orful" verse has "did it", I'm content 



Not mine the gift of Bobby Burns or Robert Service, 

Nor Byrons, Virgils, Kipplings or B. Braley, 
The stuff I write some times the metre never meets, 

And the grammar that I use is fierce and scaly, 
I do not profess to be a living famous poet, 

Competing with the men of fame I've never tried, 
I write the truth and all the soldiers know it, 

And there are none who'll say I've ever lied. 

The Author 



CONTENTS 

A Plea for Peace in the Future Years to Come - - - 13 
Over the Top ---------- 15 

We Want to go 'cross - - v ------ 18 

Our Hitch in Hell --------- go 

Several Kinds of Rookies - - - - - - - -22 

Just a Recruit ------ ----^4 

On the Way to the Army Camp ------ 26 

Camp Rumors ---------- gg 

Army Injections ---------29 

The Sunny Side of Army Life -------32 

The Sons of the Eagle -------- 34 

What a Recruit Thought of Army Duty - - - - 37 

Not 'Till Then ----------39 

The Daily drill of the Rookies -------41 

Impressions of a Few Days in the Army Camp - - - 43 
The Woman and the Rookie - - - - - - - 45 

Did You Ever do the Things We do in Camp - - - 48 
Target Practice ----------50 

Our Soldier Chaplains --------53 

A Soldier's Letter Home --------56 

Sergeant Bill and the City Skunk ------ 59 

The Aroused Eagle - - - - - - - - -62 

A Soldier's Vision of His Sweetheart - - - - - 63 

The Rantings of a Rookie ------- 64 

The Lost Water Hole -_____-_ 67 

The Sour Slum ---------- 71 

I Was One -----------73 

The Vital Need ----------74 

The Soldier's Christmas in the Army Camp - - - - 78 

Song of the Real German-American - - - - - 80 

Supposing and Didn't --------82 

The Rookies Nightmare --------84 

When You Feel the U. S. Calling ------ 87 



" Off to France' - •«-.•_ _ • $y 
The Human Forest -------.»_ 93 

The Hard Boiled Rookie - _ _ _ 94 

Though Parted -----____ jqO 

Will You? ----_____'_ 102 

The One and Only Sport ------- 194 

The Soldier's Cigarette ----___ iqq 

Men of the Army We'll do it - - - - - - 107 

The Love of Country - - - - - - - m 

Of "MeundGott" -------- 112 

One of the Millions -------- 114 

The Eagle's Song ----____ n 5 

Hot Bricks vs. Cold Feet - ----__ hq 

Why He Enlisted ----____ 119 

When We Make the Kaiser Run - 122 

Our Boys Who've Gone Away - 124 



AMERICAN SOLDIER 
BALLADS 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



A PLEA FOR PEACE IN THE FUTURE 
YEARS TO COME 



Y 



E mighty angels of the God above, 

Who've ceased to sing the joyful song of love, 
Let those golden voices ring aloud today, 
With peaceful messages brought by the Dove. 



Love's triumph, that time has written in the sands, 
Love's triumph that bids us raise our hands, 

Wakes in our souls a feeling that shall live 
And fill our ears with music of celestial bands. 



Love's triumph; Love the chain omnipotent, 
That binds this world of ours to that on high, 

Cannot we send a message through its links, 

To Him, who for us, a long, long time ago did die? 



Let the nations of the world hear the music float, 

Of peace and love throughout the land and o'er the sea, 

Thrill all hearts with the angel's echoing voice, 

And all souls with a great burst of tranced melody, 

Today when love should reign supreme, 

When we should see the angel faces of our dream, 

A shadow dark and sordid threatens all the world, 
And love and brightness fade with hopes supreme. 

13 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



Life's conflict past, upon the wings of faith, 
We must build again a lasting love and peace, 

Our faith in God shall stand until the end, 
And war with all its horrors then will cease. 



Peace in the years that are yet to come, 

Peace on earth and good will among all men, 

Lily white the world that now is filled with gloom, 
Faith among nations, a brotherhood and peace. Amen 



14 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



OVER THE TOP 

OVER the Top", we will go some day, 
Said Corporal John, and I'm goin' to pray, 
That our fightin' bunch will enter the fray 
With the glorious flag of the U. S. A. 

We've done ten months without a hitch, 
But now our feet are beginning to itch, 
So we've decided we'd like to pitch, 
Our O. D. tents in a foreign ditch. 

You ask us why we are not content, 
With the life we live in the army tent, 
With the weeks and days we've already spent, 
While we've waited, the German lines to dent. 

Listen you people and I will tell, 

In language plain and easy to spell, 

Why life in the camp is surely hell, 

While our brothers fight 'neath the bursting shell. 

We came to the camp to fight we thought, 
The excitement of battle was what we sought, 
Our brains were trained and our bodies wrought, 
W T ith the daily drill that the army taught . 

We have been in the camp, it seems ten years, 
Drilling each day with our smiles and tears, 
Hearing the rumors a rookie hears, 
'Till our sould are worried with madd'ning fears 

15 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

Fears that we must continue to stay, 
Here till the call of judgment day, 
With never a chance to enter the fray, 
And fight for the cause of the U. S. A. 

Rumors are rife that we've been appraised, 
Our efficient work has been lauded and praised, 
And our proper rating, listed and phased, 
While the standard of all has been duly raised. 

But of all the rumors that we have heard, 
Of the things that haven't and have occurred, 
Which have 'roused the men and their spirits stirred, 
This is the one that is least absurd. 

We heard it today while eating the mess, 
How it started it's hard to guess, 
But if it is true we'll surely bless, 
The one who'll publish it in the press. 

The rumor was this, that we'd soon flop, 

Where shell and shrapnel whine and hop, 

And the booming guns never once stop, 

Where we'd have our chance to go "Over the Top". 

We want it to happen and very quick, 
'Twill make the Kaiser and Hindenburg sick, 
When they see us men of the nation's pick, 
Ceme "Over the Top," determined to lick. 

W r e are a happy and restless lot, 
When we bunk-fatigue on the army cot, 
Where the nights are cool and the days are not, 
As we think of the Kaiser and his "Goot Gott." 

16 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

A dollar a day the private gets, 
While it's forty-five for us corporal^vets, 
And the sergeant's work seventy-five now nets, 
It has livened the army and killed the frets. 

They give us a chance to work ourselves up, 
From a sergeant's job to the rank of a "Pup," 
If we'll study real hard, some day we can sup, 
The comforts of life from an officer's cup. 

Our army is growing much larger each day, 
Because of the system and increased pay, 
But we are teaching ourselves to pray, 
For the day we'll enter the big world fray. 

"Over the Top," if it takes a year, 
We'll go some day without any fear, 
And the German soldiers will disappear, 
Where we carry the flag that we all hold dear. 

"Over the Top," where machine guns play, 
Went Corporal John one winter day, 
While he fought in the ranks of the U. S. A. 
With a thousand others he fell in the fray. 

Onward they swept where big shells drop, 

You had to kill 'em to make 'em flop, 

There was nothing that day that would make 'em stop, 

The day when our flag went "Over the Top." 



17 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

"WE WANT TO GO 'CROSS" 

The Song of the Nation s Fighting Men. 

WE WANT to go 'cross," 
This is the song of the soldier pard, 
The tune is a Go-get-'em air, 
The music is nifty and very much barred, 
But the rythm is always there. 

This is the song that they always will sing, 
And the music will blend with their tramp, 

Where Uncle Sam's flag, the blessed old rag, 
Waves in the air where they camp. 

This is the song of a brave bunch of men, 

Men from every station in life, 
Who gave up their all, to answer the call, 

And mix in the German strife. 

This is the song that all of them sing, 

Every word is stamped deep on their minds, 

And the country shall hear their voices so clear, 
As they float on the troublesome winds. 

This is the song, " We want to go 'cross," 

Where war with the nations is rife, 
We want just one chance, with the others in France, 

To march with the drum and the fife. 

They are getting us ready and making us steady, 
When we're started we never will stop, 

'Till our strong, khaki line reaches the Rhine, 
And then we'll "Go over the top." 

18 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

We've doctors and surgeons of national fame, 

Who joined the men of the Eagle, 
With scalpel and knife, they will save limb and life, 

While we're chasing the lean German Beagle. 

We've lawyers, architects, bright engineers, 

All men who believe in a God, 
Who'll carry our banner, with printer and tanner, 

When we march on the green German sod. 

We've students and merchants and servants of God, 
All men who have followed life's game, 

And the words of the song that all of them sing, 
Are cheerful and always the same. 

"We want to go 'cross," to the trenches in France, 
Where the wheels of old Time slowly tick, 

We want to determine the fate of the German, 
And make him acknowledge he's sick. 

"We want to go 'cross," where our brothers now fight, 

Our feet are sure itching to roam, 
And we'll fight there until we've licked Kaiser Bill, 

And placed the God Mars in a tomb. 

" We want to go 'cross, " and we're going some day, 

Just as soon as we're ready and fit, 
And with bullet and gun, we will lick every Hun, 

'Till the Kaiser has finished his bit. 

" We want to go 'cross, " 'tis the song we will sing, 
'Till the words can be heard o'er the world, 

And we march 'cross the Rhine, in close battle line, 
With Democracy's banner unfurled. 

19 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

OUR HITCH IN HELL 

The musings of a soldier revised and set down in verse 

EVERY day and night I'm thinking of the things I left 
behind, 
Yet I loath to put on paper what is running through my 
mind, 
But I think I'll feel much better, so I guess I'll take a chance, 
Ere the regiment is ordered to the shores of sunny France. 

We've dug a million trenches and have cleared ten miles of 

ground, 
And a meaner place this side of Hell, I know has ne'er been 

found, 
We've drilled in dust and scorching sun, in mud and driving 

rain, 
'Till our eyes and ears and legs and arms were yelling loud 

with pain. 
But there's still one consolation, gather closely while I tell, 
When we die we're bound for Heaven, 'cause we've done our 

hitch in Hell. 

We've built a thousand mess halls for the cooks to stew our 

beans, 
We've stood a hundred guard mounts, and cleaned the camp 

latrines, 
We've washed a million mess kits, and peeled a million spuds, 
We've rolled a million blanket rolls and washed a million duds, 
The number of parades we've made is awfully hard to tell, 
But we'll not parade in Heaven, for we paraded here in Hell. 

20 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

We've passed a million sleepless hours upon our army cots, 
And shook a hundred centipedes from out our army socks, 
We've marched a hundred thousand miles and made a thous- 
and camps, 
And pulled a million cacti thorns from out our army pants, 
So when our work on earth is done, our friends behind will tell, 
" When they died they went to Heaven, 'cause they did their 
hitch in Hell." 

The slum and coffee we have cussed, likewise the Willie canned, 
We've damned the gentle gusts of wind that filled the air with 

sand, 
We've taken the injections, ten million germs or more, 
And the vaccine scratched upon our arms has made them very 

sore, 
With all these things to get our goats, we all are here to tell, 
When the order comes to cross the pond we'll give the Germans 

Hell. 

When the final taps is sounded and we lay aside life's cares, 
And we do the last and gloried parade, on Heaven's shining 

stairs, 
And the angels bid us welcome and the harps begin to play 
We can draw a million canteen checks and spend thenrin a day, 
It is then we'll hear St. Peter tell us loudly with a yell, 
"Take a front seat you soldier men, you've done your hitch 

in Hell." 



21 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



SEVERAL KINDS OF ROOKIES 

WHEN a Rookie joins the army, in the Regs, or volun- 
teers, 
Swears allegiance to this country for a certain term 
of years, 
You can gamble that the hard ones will play upon his fears, 
They will cause his knees to wabble and his eyes to fill with 
tears. 

They will send him to the guard line, to wrap about the Band, 

And to make him hold a rifle in his military hand, 

They will chase him to the Sergeant for a dozen different 

things, 
A wrist watch, or a pillow, or a soldier's set of rings. 

They will give him extra duty in the kitchen or the street, 
And put him in the guardhouse, for walking on his feet, 
They will fill his mind with horrors, of the time he has to serve, 
'Till his brain is all a jumble and his mind begins to swerve. 

They will rag him, they will nag him, 'till the chap is feeling ill, 
And if he is a certain kind, he will beat it o'er the Hill, 
There's another kind of Rookie, who's feelings ne'er are hurt, 
And a dozen cocky Sergeants couldn't make the chap desert. 

He's a smiling, husky fellow, who the nagging doesn't harm, 
He's a product of the city, or a son from off the farm, 
He's a big, good hearted fellow, with a bunch of common sense, 
Who smiles at all the hazing, 'cause his mind is never dense. 

22 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

He wants to be a soldier, in the ranks of Uncle Sam, 
Wants to stick his fingers in the military jam, 
Wants to be proficient and obey the strictest rule, 
Wants to do his four years in the nation's biggest school. 

Then we have the rowdy Rookie, who is looking for a snap, 
He's a fighting, quarrelsome youngster, ever ready for a scrap, 
He's always hunting trouble, which to find is never hard, 
For him it's extra duty, on the woodpile in the yard. 

They put him in the guardhouse, when his character is spoiled, 
He becomes a surly creature, who is sure enough hard boiled, 
He gets to be a menace, when he's running 'round at large, 
'Till for some imagined reason, they give him his discharge. 

Thus they come to the army, the nation's most wonderful 

school, 
The glad man, the sad man, the wise man and the fool, - 
Here they sift the weaklings, the ones who falter and lag, 
And keep the strong and the brave ones to guard our country 

and flag. 



23 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



JUST A RECRUIT 

JIM was a rookie, a new recruit, 
Learning to drill and learning to shoot, 
Learning to answer the Sergeant's call, 
And the kitchen police, in the long mess hall. 

His frame was lanky and awfully thin, 
His eyes lacked fire and his face lacked chin, 
His hair was sandy and seldom combed, 
And the look on his face was of one entombed. 

The clothes that he wore for a uniform, 
Hung like sacks on his lanky form, 
His shoes were tens and a double E, 
And the walk of the lad was a sight to see. 

Thus was Jim when they sent him down 
To join the Regs, in a border town, 
A big, simple minded, country galoot, 
Learning to drill and learning to shoot. 

Now there is a rule in the U. S. A. 
That enables a soldier, to get away 
For a few short hours after the drill, 
So he hikes for town, some time to kill. 

It happened one day, that Jim came down, 
To the busy streets of the Border town, 
His thots on his girl and the day he had met 'er, 
He hunted the Office and asked for a letter. 

24 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

The letter he wanted had failed to come, 
So Jim, feeling lonely and awfully glum, 
Also neglected, and a trifle sore, 
Lost himself in thot by the Post Office door. 

And as he was standing he failed to see 
A Captain bold of the In-fan-tree 
Approaching the door, near which he stood, 
So he failed to salute, as he really should. 

Now the Captain, of course, didn't suspect 
The reason of Jim's apparent neglect, 
But an order's an order for those that shoot, 
So he called Jim down for his non-salute. 

"My man," said he, in tones that were stern, 
" Why do you fail, my salute to return; 
Are you not aware, that the orders call 
For a soldier's salute, to his officers all?" 

Jim looked at the Captain and then he grinned; 
He didn't know, that he'd really sinned. 
So he said to the Captain, the poor galoot, 
"I ain't no soldier, I'm just a recruit." 



25 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



ON THE WAY TO THE ARMY CAMP 

OH, it's nice to be a soldier, 
In the ranks of Uncle Sam, 
A bloody, bloomin' soldier, 

Who doesn't care a damn. 
A soldier in the regulars, 

The draft or volunteers, 
One who listens to his country's call, 

And leaves his home in tears. 
It's nice to hear them cheering, 

W 7 hen the train goes through a town 
That has builded in the sage brush, 

'Mongst a scene of sordid brown. 
When we hear the natives cheering, 

See the " Chickens" waving flags, 
Have the Dollies stuffing candy 

In our dirty khaki bags, 
It's nice to eat the rations, 

That get scarcer every day, 
As we pull from out our home town, 

For the camp where we will stay. 
We have canned horse for luncheon, 

For breakfast and for tea; 
The brute arrives so often, 

It makes me want to flee. 
This morning we had jelly, 

Which is very seldom seen. 
I discovered mine by scouting; 

'Twas hiding neath a bean. 
Last night as I was sleeping, 

26 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

I dreamed a funny dream; 
I thought that I was eating 

Peaches sliced with cold ice cream. 
I had a juicy beefsteak, 

Cut from a yearling cow, 
But just as I was cutting it, 

A rookie hollered "chow." 
I awakened from my slumber, 

Which had been very brief, 
To find my chunk of canned horse 

Had been taken by a thief. 
I won't say I was hungry, 

'Cause it sure would sound like hell, 
But the names I called that rooky, 

Well, I simply cannot tell. 
But it's nice to be a soldier, 

In the ranks of Uncle Sam, 
If you aren't too particular, 

And don't give a tinker's dam. 
If you want to fight the German 

In his home beyond the Rhine, 
You will sure enjoy the army, 

And think the grub divine. 



27 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



CAMP "IT IT TE have heard a thousand rumors, 
RUMORS YY And we'll hear a thousand more, 

Befor e we leave the bloomin' camp 

For Sunny France's shore. 

We have heard them on the p'rade grounds, 

We have heard them in our tent, 

We have heard the darndest rumors, 

'Most every place we went. 

Rumors 'bout the Kaiser, 

And the millions he had killed, 

Rumors 'bout the Russians, 

And all the blood they's spilled. 

Rumors 'bout the orders, 

That would send us 'cross the sea, 

Have floated on the atmosphere, 

And filled our souls with glee. 

Rumors of injections, 

For every known ill, 

Rumors 'bout the mess hall, 

That are very hard to kill. 

There are rumors 'bout the submarine, 

And all the Prussian crooks, 

The damndest bunch of rumors, 

That would fill ten thousand books. 

Rumors of the Rookie, 

Who beat it o'er the hill, 

Rumors 'bout the fighting Huns, 

And how they fight and kill. 

But no matter what the rumor, 

We all love Uncle Sam, 

And when he has us ready, 

We'll the German Kaiser slam. 

28 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



ARMY INJECTIONS 

FIRST there are typhoid injections, 
Three times they puncture the arm, 
Filling the soldier with serum, 
So the dreaded disease will not harm. 

Then they scratch him with vaccine, 
To keep the smallpox away, 
Creating a sore sometimes painful, 
That keeps him from work and from play. 

Three shots in the arm for typhoid — 
Millions of germs are used; 
You can hardly blame the poor Rookie 
For thinking he is abused. 

Then just as his arms are healing, 
And he's getting ready to fight, 
He is told of another injection 
That will keep his system right. 

It has been learned by the army physicians, 
Appointed for camp inspections, 
That Para Typhoid is a menace, 
But it can be killed with injections. 

So the order goes forth from the M. D., 
Who belongs to the medical ring, 
To gather the soldiers together, 
And give them three shots in the wing. 

29 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



You can hear 'em a groaning and cussing, 
And damning the hour and the day, 
But all of them go up and take it, 
With a smile and nothing to say. 

They talk of injections for measles, 
For typhus, and 'most ev'ry ill, 
'Till the soldier commences to wonder, 
If all of his body they'll fill. 

Just now he's injected with Comfort, 
And with germs that will satisfy, 
He's receiving all kinds of injections, 
To banish the frown and sigh. 

The recruit when he comes to the training camp, 

Is scratched with the Vaccine Content, 

And his mind is shot with a serum 

That prevents his thoughts getting bent. 

He is drilled ev'ry day in his unit, 
In the Regs, or the National Guard, 
Injected with Pep and Efficiency, 
'Till his body is toughened and hard. 

His mind is injected with clean thoughts, 
And he's taught all the things that are right, 
'Till his brain and his body are perfect, 
And he's ready and willing to fight. 

30 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



The Serum of Wide World Democracy, 
And a love for the blessed old flag, 
Are teaching them all to be soldiers, 
Who will never falter or lag. 

And when Kaiser Bill of the Germans, 
Sees the men who are filled with injections, 
Coming over the Rhine, in a perfect line, 
He won't stop for his army inspections. 

He will know he is licked by the men who were picked 
From the strongest nation on earth. 
Who were given injections and daily inspections, 
To show him what Uncle is worth. 



31 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



THE SUNNY SIDE OF SOLDIER LIFE 

I HAVE written of this soldier life, in a darn sarcastic way, 
The drill and work I've raved about, and overlooked the 
play, 
The sombre side, the dreary side, I've headlined in my verse, 
Some things I've painted awfully bad and others simply worse. 

With grouch and eyesight very dim, I've felt obnoxious things, 
I've written with a humor that destroys the joy in things, 
Kitchen Police — Fatigue Call — discomforts of the mess, 
I've hit them all a wallop and rumpled up their dress. 

The non-commisioned officers have made my dander boil, 
Because of orders issued that produced a dearth of toil. 
The captain and lieutenant have been cussed and also damned, 
And the regiment, from soup to nuts, I've very meanly slammed 

Oh, I've overlooked the joyful side, when scribbling down my 

muse, 
And have written of discomforts that would give a man the 

blues, 
But now I'm going to cut it with this pencilonian knife, 
And tell you of the sunny things in Mr. Rookies life. 

There's the ball game on the p'rade grounds, just behind the 

Major's tent. 
There's the fun you have each pay day and the money to be 

spent, 
There's a kangarooing courthouse with a Rookie as a judge, 
There's the box of home-made plunder, full of cake and 

chocolate fudge. 

32 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

There' 8 the movie with its pictures, when to town you get a 

pass, 
There's the smiling, jolly features of your best beloved lass, 
There's the wrestling match and boxing, the bloomin game of 

craps, 
There's the cot that's made of canvas, where you mooch some 

pleasant naps. 

There's the singing in the squad tents, when the rookies get 

together, 
There's the hours we spend in loafing when its wet and rainy 

weather, 
There's the canteen with its candy and its sparkling, cold root 

beer, 
Its cigarettes and souvenirs and other things that cheer. 

There's the chaplain and the service he holds each Sunday 

morn, 
There's the dandy Sunday dinner — chicken fricaseed — and 

corn, 
There's the fellow with the camera who snaps you when you're 

dressed, 
And the pictures in your album, of the ones you love the best. 

Now I've told you of the sunny things in every soldier's life, 
I've written naught of trouble, or of regimental strife, 
And every word I've written is absolutely true, 
The sunny things are many 'mongst the things we have to do. 



33 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



THE SONS OF THE EAGLE 

Dedicated to all the soldiers of Uncle Sam — the Regular 
A rmy, the National Guard and the New National Army. To you 
men with the red blood in your veins, who have given up all you 
hold dear in this world to fight beneath the flag of the old U.S., 
these humble words are dedicated, with the hope that they will 
be understood and received in the sam,e spirit in which they are 
written. May you be successful in all you undertake, victorious 
in all the battles you wage and may you all return unscathed 
to your home when the world is once more at peace. These are 
the best wishes of the people of the United States. 

YOU are the sons of the Eagle, red blooded, virile men, 
Who have chosen to fight with gun and sword, 'till 
peace is assured again. 
Sturdy and strong, singing the song, heeding your country's cry, 
Ready to fight for a thing that is right, ready if need to die. 

You are the beak of the Eagle, the Navy its claws that tear, 
And the wings, themeninthe aeroplanes, that fly inthesmoky air, 
You came from the crowded cities, you came from the new 

ploughed fields, 
You came from the mountains and prairies, where nature her 

real men yields. 

From the woods that grow in the northern lands, 

From each sea coast with its waves and sands, 

From the hearts of cities and bushy towns, 

Where life in a seething maelstrom drowns 

The hopes and the fears of a million souls. 

You have placed your names on the nation's scrolls. 

34 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

From the icy north with its pall of snow, 
From the prairies wide where the wind does blow. 
From the deserts burning with livid heat, 
The nation has heard your tramping feet. 
Men in the prime of life are you, 
Stalwart backed, and brave and true, 
Men who will fight across the seas, 
If the Finger writes and Fate decrees, 

You men from every station in life, 

Who have left a mother, sweetheart or wife, 

Men of native and foreign birth, 

From every nation on Mother Earth. 

You are the breed with the Eagle's creed, 
United and standing together. 

You will enter the fight, and fight with your might, 
And brave all the stormy weather. 

You're the Eagle's men, with blood that is red, 
With never a tinge of yellow, 
Men who won't lag, when you march with the flag, 
The loyal and true-hearted fellow. 

You're the big man, who has joined the van, 
The man with red blood in his veins, 
The ones who won't shirk, when asked to do work 
Full of danger and possible pains. 

You're the men who're sincere, who hold country dear, 
Who have mothers and sweethearts and wives, 
Who have given up all, to answer the call, 
And protect Uncle's flag with your lives. 

35 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

You are the sons of the Eagle, the strength of its snapping 

beak, 
And all the nations of Europe will know that you aren't weak, 
During peace you have been Uncle's servant, during war you 

will be his slave. 
And your wings will hum and your pulses drum 'til the flags of 

freedom wave. 

You are the sons of the Eagle, eager to prove your worth, 
Ready to kill if the powers so will, with the best trained men 

on earth. 
You glorious sons of the Eagle, you each have your pledge to 

fill, 
Through the months you are getting ready and learning to fight 

and drill, 
While you're waiting the day of the order that will send you 

across to France, 
Where your brothers and all of the Allies are taking a fighting 

chance. 

With the English, the French and the Russians, you'll bear 

Democracy's flag, 
Silent, determined fighters, who will never falter or lag, 
'Till the power of the German Kaiser is wiped from the face of 

the earth. 
You will show the millions of Germans, what the Eagle's sons 

are worth. 
You are the sons of the Eagle, who will fight for the U. S. A. 
'Till peace that is everlasting is brought to the world to stay. 



36 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



WHAT A RECRUIT THOUGHT OF ARMY DUTY 

THIS is the song of a soldier as he sits in the camp alone, 
On the dark, dark nights, when the city lights cause 
him to sigh and moan, 
When he's lonely and blue, though ready to do his bit in the 
fighting zone. 

I'm one of Uncle Sam's soldiers, but simply a volunteer. 

My coming was reckoned, when grim duty beckoned, thus I am 

here. 
Here where you drill, learning to kill, ev'ry day in the sun, 
Here where you pray, day after day, for a chance at the 

German Hun. 

Here in the U. S. Army camp, after the sun's gone down, 
Thinking of fights and watching the lights that twinkle and 

blaze in town. 
Walking my post at midnight, strolling along at my ease, 
Praying for hurried action and a chance to do as I please. 

Wanting to fight the German, ready to do and die, 
Believing in Uncle Sammy, never wondering why, 
Looking through powerful glasses at the stars in the deep 

cobalt, 
Hearing far in the distance, the sentry on guard holler, " Halt". 

Trying to sleep in the guard tent, trying by closing my eyes, 
Fighting the gnats and mosquitos, swatting the pesky flies, 
Out on the bloody guard line, scarcely a mile from the camp, 
Out with a dozen others doing my nightly tramp. 

37 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

Thinking of home and mother and the girl I bade farewell, 
Believing with old man Sherman, that war is a seething hell, 
Vowing by all that's holy, determined I'll never lag, 
'Till the German Kaiser Wilhelm, bows to our glorious flag. 

This is the song of the soldier on guard in the night alone, 

In the bright moonlight, spilin' for fight in the German 

Kaiser's zone, 
While the senators home, 'neath the capitol dome, pick the 

International Bone. 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

"NOT 'TILL THEN." 

Note. — The author, who has made a careful study of the 
present war from a purely American standpoint, has been asked 
during the past three years by seven thousand, six hundred and 
twenty-three American soldiers, just when he thought the German 
Kaiser would be killed and the Germans cease fighting. The 
following lines have been written in answer to these inquiries. 

WHEN the tiger eats grass like the ox, 
And the submarine runs from the whale, 
When the turtles wear cotton sox, 

And the torpedo's caught by the snail, 
When the rattlesnakes fail to scare men, 

And centipedes travel like frogs, 
When the egg isn't laid by the hen, 

And feathers are found on the dogs, 
When the tarantula ceases to bite, 

And the thorn of the cacti to prick, 
When the sun starts to shine in the night, 

And pneumonia won't make you sick, 
When tabby cats fly through the air, 

And burros do roost in the trees, 
When flies in the summer are rare, 

And school children do as they please, 
When fishing is good on the Border, 

And the bray of a mule's never heard, 
When groceries we don't have to order, 

And the future is no longer blurred. 
When the wind never riles up the sand, 

And the women in dress take no pride, 
When the sun doesn't dry up the land, 

And the doodle bug's killed for its hide; 

39 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

When clocks cease to tell us the time, 

And William Goats butt from the rear, 
When treason and theft aren't crime, 

And germs aren't thought of as queer, 
When humming birds bray like an ass, 

And the raven sings like the lark, 
When whiskey and beer get a pass, 

And dollars are found in the park. 
When gas meters cease to tell lies 

And the girls with the soldiers won't spoon, 
When the bootlegger finally dies, 

And we talk to the man in the moon, 
When La Follette and Stone cease to rave, 

And the Senate develops some speed, 
When King Dollar is pushed from his throne, 

And we banish the mad money creed, 
When bread is a nickel a loaf, 

And the high cost of living is canned, 
When the spirit of Unity reigns, 

And Ty Cobb always is fanned. 
When our army is large and efficient, 

And our soldiers are fighting in France, 
When we realize what we are in for, 

And use system instead of just chance. 
When we've thousands and thousands of airplanes, 

And a fleet of huge merchant ships, 
When we're ready to move 'gainst the Germans, 

And fight with our hands, not our lips. 
It is then that the poor German soldiers, 

Will give up the fight with a sigh, 
And Wilhelm, the wicked old Kaiser, 

Will cease all his scrapping and die. 



40 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



THE DAILY DRILL OF THE ROOKIES 



The Captain s Lament 



I AM the captain of a company, 
O'er which I rave and gloat, 
But showing rookies how to drill, 
Has almost got my goat. 

At six a. m. the drill call sounds, 

The line is full of dents, 
Some are crawling into ranks, 

Some in their sleeping tents. 

The whistle blows, the Top roars out, 

"Attention! men in ranks," 
The men are grumbling in the line, 

The officers are cranks. 

"Right dress,' ' the order then is yelled, 
Some men they can't see straight, 

The line looks like the pickets 
On a broken wooden gate. 

It's "Jones step out" and "Smith get back," 

And "Dobson lift your head," 
And "Corporal Jimmy Dodgers, 

You stand like you are dead." 

41 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

"Inspection Arms' ' the order comes, 
The bolts they click and rattle, 

They sound just like a bum stenog. 
Or Villa's men in battle. 

"Heads up, Eyes front, now stand that way, 

And Johnson stop your talk, 
Right face, Forward march, I say, 

For Mike's sake learn to walk." 

"Column right," the order comes, 

"Damn it, watch your step; 
You're not marching at a funeral, 

So fill yourselves with pep." 

"Squads left about" and "Right oblique, 

Ye gods, you're sure a show. 
You turn the corners like a wheel, 

You're rotten and you're slow." 

"Company halt, Right, shoulder arms, 

Please do it with a snap, 
Confound you, Sergeant Billy, 

You haven't time to gap." 

Thus it goes on day by day, 

When rookies learn to drill, 
If you're captain of a company, 

You sure will get your fill. 



42 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



IMPRESSIONS OF A FEW DAYS 
IN THE ARMY CAMP 

TURMOIL, confusion, things all upset, 
Wind storms and thunder, rain that is wet, 
The drill in the sun that is sure burning hot, 
The whole commissary tied in a knot. 

Canned milk and hard-tack furnish some fun, 
The bloomin' corned Willie, that never gets done. 
The pop and the candy and nice ice cream cones, 
Help straighten the kinks in our muscles and bones. 

Water in pipes that is really luke warm, 
Red ants by thousands constantly swarm, 
Typhoid injections, ten million germs, 
Language by non-coms, any old terms. 

Letters each day from the folks back at home, 
The company barber clipping your dome, 
Foot inspection, the nursing of corns, 
Twenty- two buglers blowing their horns. 

Thirty-two sick men lying in bed. 
Sweating and groaning with pains in their head, 
Rookies complaining about the chow, 
Wishing for eggs and milk from a cow. 

Mess kits and rifles all in disorder, 
One German rookie crossing the border, 
Men in the tents sing "Over the Top," 
While the new special orders never do stop. 

43 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

Special detail for the men in the squads, 
Blankets and ponchos rolled up in wads, 
Cartridges issued, one bandolier, 
Some of the rookies feeling quite queer, 

Beautiful shower baths once every day, 
Mattresses stuffed full of new mown hay, 
Jitney trolleys that take you to town, 
Root beer in schooners, bright sparkling brown. 

New supply sergeants riding on mules, 
Wise men and soldiers, soldiers and fools, 
Everything gradually getting the stamp, 
Of "American Efficiency" here in the camp. 



44 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



THE WOMAN AND THE ROOKIE 

THE Rookie was tired of camp life, as he sat in the first 
squad tent, 
His hat was tilted sideways and his back and his knees 
were bent, 
So the Captain passing took pity and gave him a pass to go 
For a few short hours to civilized bowers, to walk on the 
Alamo. 

He put on his brand new leggins, his tie and his tailored blouse, 
And said good bye to the Captain as he passed the old guard 

house. 
His fellow rookies in durance cursed as he started to go 
To the bright wide streets of the city, where schooners of root- 
beer flow. 

Oh, the feeling that filled the Rookie, whose face was a sun 

burned brown, 
As he boarded a jitney trolly and started to ride to town, 
Was one he long remembered, one he could never forget, 
A joyous, satisfied feeling, that moistened his eyes with wet. 

He called at the House of Welcome, where the lights were 

burning bright, 
Called because he was asked to on that long remembered night. 
And there he met one Woman, a girl in a thousand I guess, 
She asked him a hundred questions and he answered them all 

with a "Yes". 

45 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

Them she said, "Let's move to the outside and sit where it's 

dark, and cool, 
And I'll tell you the dream of my lifetime, the one where I'm 

teaching school. 
So they went from the room of brightness, to the cool, dark 

porch outside, 
And the Woman she told the Rookie many things as he sat by 

her side. 

Told him of foreign countries, the Isle of the Philippine, 
Told him of rain and sunshine and other things she had seen, 
Told him about her Daddy, who rode into Mexico, 
Wonderful things she told him, things that were really so. 

The Rookie sat by the Woman, there on the dark, cool porch, 
There where the heat of their friendship hadn't a chance to 

scorch, 
And she told him about her childhood, her youth and the after 

years, 
'Till her eyes and those of the Rookie were filled with genuine 

tears. 

Oh, the Woman she talked to the Rookie in a very wonderful 

way, 
Not as a total stranger she had known part of a day, 
But as one she had known for ages, numbered by many years, 
A friend of the past and the future, thus destroying his fears; 

Fears of a brutal environment, where men's hopes slowly die, 
Tear of the ignorant mortal, who crawls beneath the sky, 
Fear of the backward sliding on the slippery hill of Hate, 
Fear of the shackles welded by the grim sure hand of Fate. 

46 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



She spoke of Wilson as President, of the wonderful things he'd 

done, 
She spoke of the German Kaiser, his creed and the brutal Hun, 
How the orders issued from Washington were just as they 

ought to be, 
Oh, she opened the eyes of the Rookie and made him correctly 



She was a wonderful Woman, while he was a common man, 

She was a soldier's daughter, he of the Roving clan, 

Her life had been spent with the army, practically all of her 

years, 
While his had been spent in the big world, in the Valley of 

Strife and Tears. 

But the few hours spent with the Woman the night that the 

Rookie called, 
Were the happiest spent in ages, for the Army fetters galled. 
They made the burden more easy and lifted him out of the 

hole 
That was dark and deep and bottomless, a trap for the Rookie's 

soul. 

They made him contented with camp life and his cot in the 

first squad tent, 
Took the kink from out his shoulders, and straightened his 

legs that were bent, 
Made his soul a beautiful image, instead of a sordid clod, 
And brought him back to his real self and made him belitve 

in God. 

47 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



DID YOU EVER DO THE THINGS WE DO IN CAMP? 

Did you ever eat your dinner when the rain was pouring down, 
Sitting in the mess hall at a table long and brown, 
With your mind upon a cafe back in your own home town, 
While the non-coms watched you eating with a military frown? 
No? Well we have to do these things right here in camp. 

Did you ever have a non-com with two stripes upon his arm 
Giving simple orders like a silly young school marm, 
One who ought to be working on his uncle's dairy farm, 
Far away from the German bullets that might cause him 

awful harm? 
No? Well we have to do these things right here in camp. 

Did you ever try to slumber on a little canvas cot, 

In a great big O. D. tent when the sun was burning hot, 

Where the bloody, bloomin' pesky ants were crawling awful 

thick, 
And a vision of the corned beef hash would really make you 

sick? 
No? Well we have to do these things right here in camp. 

Did you ever have to dig a ditch to hold the surplus rain, 
Make the water run up a hill and then run down again, 
Dig until your aching back was yelling loud with pain, 
And the typhoid in your punctured arm was swelling up a 

vein? 
No? Well we have to do these things right here in camp. 

48 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

Did you ever have to get permish to take a nice shower bath, 
Get a pass to leave your camp and walk the narrow path, 
Or get a pass to do a thing that's always aftermath, 
And brave if you were passless the Colonel's awful wrath? 
No? Well we have to do these things right here in camp. 

Did you ever have to live in camp where everything's up- 
set, 
Where the wind is always windy and the rain is always wet, 
Where everything is tangled in a big official net, 
Where we always will remember the things we can't forget? 
No? Well we have to do these things right here in camp. 

Oh, the Nevers that you've never had to do, 

May sound as if they weren't really true, 

But honest what I've wrote, 

Would surely get your goat, 

If you were made to do the things we have to do. 

But, here in the army camp, 

They are putting on the clamp, 

And real work is mingled daily with the fun, 

They are making us all ready, 

In a manner quick and steady, 

For the day we'll cross the ocean and battle with the Hun. 



49 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



TARGET PRACTICE 

EVER lie upon your belly with some other soldier pards, 
Where the distance to the targets was just two hun- 
dred yards, 
When the sun was shining brightly with a tantalizing glare, 
And the dust was floating thickly in the heavy laden air? 

Ever listen to the bullet with its whining, singing hiss, 

Then have the chump who's scoring call your shot a perfect 

miss, 
Ever try for ten straight bullseyes, what they call a perfect 

score, 
And get when you had finished, eight twos, a three and four? 

Ever lie upon your stomach in a rocky, sandy hole, 

With your eye upon the target and the markers shifting pole, 

With your sights a holding windage and the sling about your 

arm, 
While your mind was wandering homeward to a little dairy 

farm? 

Ever bring your eye to focus on the little spot of black, 
With your elbow on a pebble and a kink within your back, 
With your finger on the trigger and your shoulder on the stock, 
While all your thoughts were dreading the recoil's awful shock? 

Ever shoot at number seven when you should have shot at 

eight, 
Then swear you army rifle never shot a bullet straight, 
Ever shoot a string of bullets when you couldn't qualify, 
And blame your awful shooting on a defect in your eye? 

50 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

Ever keep right on shooting when the bugle blew, "Cease 

Fire", 
And have the Colonel bawl you out with wrath and awful ire, 
Ever shoot your string a standing when your nerves were all 

awry, 
And a blurr was creeping slowly o'er your aching, painful eye? 

When your weak and limber finger lacked the strength to pull 

the trigger, 
And you wished the little bull's eye was bigger, bigger, bigger, 
When the firing of the rifles made your ear-drums fairly split, 
And you knew without your firing you could never make a hit? 

Ever ricochet a bullet from a pebble off the ground, 
'Till it struck a perfect bullseye as it made a quick rebound, 
Ever kneel with twenty others at two hundred rapid fire, 
And pray like seven angels that your arms would never tire? 

Ever hear the Colonel holler — "Get ready, load your guns", 
And watch the targets dancing like a bunch of shaking suns, 
Ever make two bullseyes running, then miss the target clean, 
'Cause your arms and legs were wabbling like a European 
Queen? 

Ever flinch when you were shooting and bump your bloomin' 

nose, 
While the recoil of your rifle spoiled your perfect shooting pose, 
Ever shoot the range for record and fail to qualify, 
'Cause the shots that you were shooting, were a foot or so too 

high? 

51 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

Ever try for Expert Rifleman and when all your shots were 

shot, 
Find that Marksman at one sixty was all that you had got, 
Ever shoot like William Cody from his seat upon a mount, 
And find when you had finished, that your possible didn't 

count? 

If you've never done these Evers, why it's not so awful 

strange, 
'Cause you've never spent a week end upon the target range, 
Never lived in pup tents and dined on Willie canned, 
Never practiced for the German, or you would understand. 



A3 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



OUR SOLDIER CHAPLAIN 

MEN of the army, listen, you who are far from home, 
Hark to what I have written in this crudely worded 
poem, 
Read of what I have written, concerning a few brave men 
Who fight Life's wonderful battles, with a prayer and a solemn 

Amen. 
These are our chaplain soldiers who have answered the 

country's call, 
They came with you men to the army camp, leaving their 

homes and all, 
Men, whose religious teachings, concerning the Christ and the 

Lord, 
Are far removed from the army, with its rifle, bullets and 
sword. 

Catholic, Protestant, Christian, regardless of class and creed, 

Came with you men to the army camp, because of the coun- 
try's need. 

Now listen to what I tell you, impress these words on your 
mind, 

Concerning these men who are with you, men of a wonderful 
kind, 

Remember the night you were thinking of the girl you had 
left behind, 

The night that the blues were creeping and destroying your 
peace of mind, 

The night you were cussing the army and longing for home 
again, 

The turbulent feeling of madness, the grief and the awful pain. 

S3 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

What happened, oh men of the army, when the army fetters 

galled? 
Why you went from your tent in the darkness and the army 

chaplain called, 
And he answered your call from the darkness, invited you into 

his tent, 
And talked to you like a father, 'till all of your passions were 

spent. 
He told you of Christ and His teachings, his wonderful gifts 

to men, 
'Till you went from his tent to your little brown cot at peace 

with the world once again, 
Now listen you men who are married to the words I have writ- 
ten here, 
Do you remember the night you were thinking of the wife and 

the babies dear? 

The awful hot day and the drilling, that were rilling your minds 

with gloom, 
And the thoughts of the German Kaiser, the battle and possible 

doom? 
How you cussed and raved at the army, when you thought of 

the kiddies and wife, 
And your mind was a seething maelstrom and you damned all 

the German strife. 
Remember you men of the army, the nights I am naming here, 
When you left your tent in a temper, with a sordid thought 

and a fear, 
A fear that Uncle Sam's armies would sail o'er the ocean some 

day, 
And the wife and the kiddies waiting, would know you had 

entered the fray. 

54 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

Remember you men of the army, that night your patience 

was spent, 
The wonderful man who soothed you as you sat with him in 

his tent, 
The man of the God above you, the man who believes in the 

Lord, 
The man who told you of Jesus who carried a flaming sword. 
That man was your army chaplain, a very wonderful man, 
Who came with you men to the army camp and joined your 

soldier clan, 
The man whom you all will remember as the months and the 

years go by, 
The man who filled you with comfort and dried the tear in 

your eye. 

Oh, men of the regular army, the draft and the volunteers, 
Remember your army chaplains, in this valley of Strife and 

Tears, 
You've Colonels and Majors and Captains, who drill you with 

iron in the rod, 
But the men who will take you farthest are the Chaplain 

soldiers of God. 



55 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

A SOLDIER'S LETTER HOME 

Soldier Camp of U. S. A. — No Place or Time or Date. 

DEAR MOTHER: I am writing, I know a trifle late, 
But I have been so busy with the Soldier's daily grind 
That I've neglected writing, but I know you will not 
mind; 
When you've read what I am writing, you'll feel a whole lot 

better, 
And I promise that hereafter I will write a daily letter. 

Tell Sis she wouldn't know me, since I left our little town, 
For the sun has surely baked me a most gorgeous, golden 

brown. 
Tell Dad if he could see me, he would never cuss me more, 
For oversleeping mornings, or neglecting any chore. 
Tell little brother Bennie I've a pistol and a gun, 
A really truly rifle, that wasn't made for fun. 

Tell my sweetheart that I love her, when you see her, Mother 

dear, 
That sleeping, drilling, working, I keep wishing she were here, 
Tell Aunty that I thank her for the little wooden box, 
The home-made jam and cookies, and the dozen knitted sox. 
Tell Sis' fellow for me, if he wants to have some fun, 
To join the U. S. army, and get himself a gun. 

Tell Tom and Dick and Harry and strapping Jimmie Ceots, 
That Uncle Sam is needing a million more recruits. 

66 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

Just tell 'em what I'm writing, in this letter, dear, to you, 
So that each and every one will know just what we do. 
At five a. m. the bugle blows, the call to rise and dress; 
At five-fifteen the morning run, at six a. m. the mess. 

Hot cakes and syrup, coffee, spuds and bacon fried, 

With sugar, milk and home baked bread to fill the space inside. 

At half past six, Fatigue call sounds, the streets and tents are 

'pliced, 
Then we drill for two long hours, before we are released. 
From nine a. m. 'till three p. m., we sleep and write and read. 
Then we drill again, dear Mother, for it's drilling that we need. 

The Post Exchange supplies our wants with almost anything, 
We've a dandy club and reading room where we can go and 

sing. 
We can get a pass to go to town, 'most any time we wish, 
We've everything we want to eat, both plain and fancy dish. 
We've a ball team, some boxing gloves, a wrestling match 

and craps. 
We've each a little army cot, we sleep on after taps. 

We've mess halls with mosquito net, shower baths that are 
divine. 

Oh! there's nothing, Mother, which we have that isn't extra 
fine, 

We've clothes galore for every need; Sunday, work or play, 

We've a colonel who's a dandy, and a day on which they pay. 

We've a hundred things, dear Mother, that I haven't room to 
mention, 

A hundred things, dear Mother, that require our close at- 
tention. 

57 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

We are happy and we're healthy, and we're learning to be men, 
Such a chance to get a schooling, we may never have again. 
Oh' I miss you, Mother darling, but I'm happy and content. 
With the hours and weeks we're spending in the regulation 

tent, 
'Cause I know I need the schooling I may never get again, 
The school that takes the weaklings, and makes them into men. 

Now, Mother dear, I've written you, a letter that is long, 
"Efficiency's" the title of our regimental song, 
We are waiting now and ready for the day we'll take a chance 
With our brothers and the others on the plains of Sunny 

France. 
We are waiting for the order that will bid us grab our guns, 
For the day we'll lick the Kaiser and his fighting German Huns 
Now I'll close with love and kisses, and a heart that's full of joy 
And sign my name as always, 'Your Happy Soldier Boy,' ' 



68 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



SERGEANT BILL AND THE CITY SKUNK 

BILL was a pard who I'd met in the ranks, 
Him with the long and skinny shanks, 
Him with the hair that was tinged with gray, 
And a look in his eyes always far away. 

We were sittin' one night where the shrapnel plays, 
On the edge of a trench that was turned edgeways, 
And close to our feet lay one of our men, 
Who would never fight in the war again. 

A shrapnel slug from out of the air, 

Had gone through his hat, his skull and hair, 

And there he lay all red and white, 

With his body dead and his soul in flight. 

And Bill, as we sat in that terrible place, 
Had a smile of joy on his grimy face, 
And the smile was caused by that clod of chalk, 
'Twas the body of it that made Bill talk. 

"I've messed and I've slaved and I've toiled," said Bill, 
' 'Till the soul in my body was ready to kill, 
And the bones in my body just ached with pain, 
And my hopes in life were banished and slain. 

I've toiled in the heat 'mongst the desert's drouth, 
'Till my tongue stuck fast to the roof of my moutk, 
With my eyes bloodshot from the Hellish glare, 
While death stalked near, but I didn't care. 

59 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



'Cause the woman I'd married had thrown me down, 
For a no good skunk, that hailed from town, 
Where they've electric cars and paved highways, 
And the nights made light as the summer days. 



He'd come to my town when I was away 
Lookin' for dirt that would wash a pay, 
And give me a stake for a house and lot, 
For the girl I'd married, the one named Dot. 

I ain't blamin' her 'cause she fell for his guff. 
Or 'cause she was made of weakling stuff, 
She'd been married to me for five long years, 
While I toiled for her in a sun that sears. 



And my body was dried and baked and cooked, 
Why, at thirty-five it was fifty I looked, 
I'm not blamin her 'cause she went away, 
With this two faced rattler and city jay. 

'Cause I ain't got the heart to bawl her out, 
For fear some day she might find it out, 
It's him that I'm cussin', it's him that filled 
My soul with hate. Yes I'm glad he's killed. 

Not 'cause he took my girl named Dot, 
But because he left her to die and rot 
In the big Hellish city of pizen and lies, 
Where the soul withers up and the body diei. 

60 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

It's been ten years since my lady died, 
And the pulse in my heart ceased beating inside, 
But all through the years since she went away 
I've hunted that skunk and I've learned to pray, 

And the prayer that I'd taught to my inner mind, 

Just asked the Lord to be just and kind, 

And deliver to me the worthless life 

Of the damned city skunk who stole my wife. 

And now that the creature is layin' there, 
I guess the Lord has answered my prayer, 
And it is better he died that way, 
For he died like a man, is all I can say." 

And there in the trench, Bill bared his head 
And offered a prayer for him who was dead, 
And there where the roar of the guns never stop. 
Old Sergeant Bill went "Over the Top." 



61 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



THE AROUSED EAGLE 

THE Eagle's been aroused boys, he sure is fightin' mad, 
He's screamin through the country, he's quit a bein' 
sad, 
His feathers are all ruffled and his mouth is open wide, 
His eye is flashin' awful and he's burnin' up inside. 

He's been roostin' mighty peaceful, for many, many years, 
With his mind a gettin' sadder, and his eyes a sheddin tears, 
While he watched the warrin' nations, raisin Cain across the 

pond, 
He was lookin' very careful, just a little bit beyond. 

He was watchin' while the Germans were a sinkin' all our 

ships, 
He was watchin' when the Mexicans were makin' many slips, 
But now he's quit a watchin' 'cause he couldn't stand no more, 
And he's screamin' through the country, for he's awful, awful 

sore. 

He's in a fightin' humor and he has a right to be, 
For he's fightin' with the Germans who live across the sea, 
He needs two million fightin' men, Old Kaiser Bill to lick, 
Two million husky soldiers, and he needs 'em mighty quick. 

So, get in and help the Eagle, in a war he didn't start, 
Join his mighty army and do your little part, 
'Cause while he is a screamin' in a voice that's fightin' mad, 
He needs two million soldiers and he needs 'em mighty bad. 

62 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

A SOLDIER'S VISION OF HIS SWEETHEART 
AND THE HILLS 

OFTEN here in this Hellish strife, 
Here where the ways all part, 
There comes a vision of you and the hills, 
So plain that I want to start. 

Fade the trenches and roaring guns, 

Fade and pass away, 
'Till I roam once more on the green hill tops, 

Where we were wont to play. 

Once more as of old I spend the day, 

On the mountains wild and steep. 
On the snow capped peaks and the pine clad slopes, 

In the canyons wide and deep. 

Oh! towering rocks, on your dizzy heights 

Full many a day we've played, 
And many a night in the bright star light 

We've fallen asleep unafraid. 

The roaring stream as it dashes down, 

Possesses a wonderful charm, 
Oh! big out-doors, with your grassy floors, 

Where we always felt free from harm. 

Quickly the vision of mountain tops, 

Fades with your features pale, 
No more the hoot owl's sudden cry, 

No more the wolf's wierd wail. 

I'm back where the big guns never hush, 

Living with hates and fears, 
But deep in my heart, dear memories start, 

That fill both my eyes full of tears. 
63 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



THE RANTINGS OF A ROOKIE 

THEY have put me in the army, 
'Cause they said I was a man, 
To help them lick the Kaiser, 
Yes, to lick him if we can. 

They have promised active service, 
But all that I have seen 
Has been a pick and shovel, 
Diggin' ditch and camp latrine. 

The first thing in the morning 
Is the bugler with his horn, 
Arousin' you from slumber, 
'Cause the nags must have their corn. 

Then I curry them and brush them, 
Feed them oats and hay, 
Oh, a trooper in the army, 
Does the same stunts every day. 

The Sergeant says do this and that, 
That horse is not a cow, 
Forget about the swimmin' hole, 
The fishin' and the plow. 

I do the best I really can, 
Therefore it is a shame 
That when the horse kicks me a lick, 
Yours Truly gets the blame. 

64 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



Some day I'll be a general, 
I'll dog the sergeants' trail, 
I'll put him on the wood pile 
And send him for my mail. 

I'll work him in the kitchen 
Peelin' spuds all through the morn, 
Just to hear him swear and holler 
And regret that he was born. 

But what's the use of all these pipes, 
I'm a rookie for all that, 
It's, you bonehead, throw out your chest, 
Reduce the surplus fat. 

Put your heels together, 
Head up and eyes to right, 
Can't you savy English language, 
By George! but you're a fright. 

They forgot your brains when making you, 
Cut out that mumbling; See, 
Holy sufferin' cats and dogs, 
Your arm is not your knee. 

I'll drill you like a German, 

I'll teach you right from left, 

I'll pound some sense into your head 

If I can find a cleft. 

65 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

Oh! every hour and minute, 
It seems I must be shown, 
The sergeant keeps me at it 
Like a bloomin' god of stone. 

The mess is not like mothers, 
The beans or stew or pork 
Aren't cooked as mother cooks 'em 
Back home in old New York. 

But I have made improvements, 
I have straightened up my back, 
I've put some color in my cheeks, 
The kind they used to lack. 

I've took the kinks from out my mind, 
And fixed my feet and knees, 
I've put my wind in order 
For the fight across the seas. 

I'm feeling like a million beans, 
Thanks be to Uncle Sam, 
Of me he's made a soldier, 
And by God a fighting man. 



66 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



THE LOST WATER HOLE AND THE HIDDEN TRAIL 

What a Sergeant told his comrades as they waited 
in the trenches for the order to go "Over The Top" 

SERGEANT Bill was a husky man, 
Born and bred of a fighting clan, 
Man who belonged to the Big Out-of-Doors, 
With the sky his roof and the soil his floors. 

Thirty years old, heavy and tall, 

The day he answered his country's call; 

And that night in the trench where the big shells hiss, 

The Sergeant, spoke and he told us this: 

"I have sweltered in the blazing sun 
On the deserts of the south, 
I have watched the cattle dying, 
During months of stifling drouth. 

I have packed a mining outfit 
On a desert nightingale, 
And bave faced a blinding windstorm 
In a wind that blew a gale. 

I have scratched the burning desert, 
For the cursed yellow gold, 
And have fought the deadly norther, 
With its sleet and biting cold. 

67 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



I have toiled and mucked and wandered, 
In the blistering, killing heat, 
With my canteen shy of water, 
And not a thing to eat. 

I have felt my tongue a swelling, 
And my throat a growing dry, 
While I watched the buzzards soaring 
Far above me in the sky. 

I have staggered 'cross the burning wastes 
In God's forgotten land, 
With my feet all cut and blistered, 
From the scorching yellow sand. 

I have cursed the God above me, 
And have damned my doubting soul, 
As I searched the dried up desert, 
For a tiny water hole. 

"Then I found it". 

I have labored and toiled in the frozen North, 
With pick and shovel and pan; 
And have washed the sand of many a creek, 
And have finished where I began. 

I have tramped the trails through the virgin snow. 

With snow shoes, rifle and pack; 

I have felt the cold like a stabbing knife, 

As I lay in a trapper's shack. 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



I have faced a blizzard that raged and roared, 
With the snow clean up to my knees; 
I have felt my body grow chill and cold, 
And my hands and feet all freeze. 

I have mushed with the dogs eight hundred miles, 
To a place near the Northern Lights, 
And have counted a million gleaming stars, 
That shone through the winter nights, 

I have thawed the dirt with a raging fire, 
And have dug in the heated ground, 
Panning the mud, the rock and sand, 
But never a thing I found. 

I have lived on the meat of the white tailed deer, 

With never a spud or flour, 

And for six long weeks with a broken bone, 

I have camped in an icy bower. 

I have cursed the cold and the blinding snow, 
The wind and its whining wail, 
As I searched for a blaze on the pine and fir, 
And a sign of the long lost trail. 

"Then I found It". 

The Lost Water Hole and the Hidden Trail, 
In two extremes of the earth, 
The finding of which have saved my life, 
And broadened my mental girth. 

69 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



Dying of thirst in the desert heat, 
Cursing my God and my soul, 
When all of the time the hand of Kim 
Was drawing me near the Hole. 

Freezing to death in the Arctic wastes, 
With body and soul turned cold, 
'Till an unseen hand showed me the trail, 
And made me believe in God. 

Years I have lived in the barren wastes, 
Years in the city's strife, 

But The Lost Water Hole and The Hidden Trail 
Taught me the lesson of Life. 

And now that I'm here with you soldier pals, 
I never will falter or drop, 

'Cause the Lost Water Hole and The Hidden Trail 
Will carry me "Over the Top. " 



70 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



THE SOUR SLUM 



AT times the Army mess 
Was cooked by merely guess, 
And the stuff they served the soldiers, 
Sure would kill an Irish goat. 
There were puddings, also pies, 
That would never take a prize 
For filling up the stomach 
Underneath the army coat; 
But the "slum" was sure the stuff 
That would use a soldier rough 
If he swallowed just a little 
With the army's splendid grub. 
But the day the "Slum' ' was sour 
They howled with ten horse power, 
And threatened him who made it 
With a ducking in the tub. 



"Not I", said the Cook, "' Cause I cooked the mess, 
And I ought to know what I cooked, I guess." 
"Not I", said the Sergeant of all the supplies, 
"Why the taste of the stuff has caused me surprise." 
"Not I", said the Corporal, who bossed the fatigue, 
"I'm an old hand at cards, but I surely renige." 
"Not I", said the Rookie on kitchen detail, 
"I'm not the cause of this awful wail". 

71 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



Now the wail was so loud and awfully long, 
That the Captain was roused by the angry song; 
So he strode from his tent, to the big mess hall, 
And bade them be quiet, each one and all. 
Here he soon learned the cause of the fuss, 
And tasted the stuff that had made 'em cuss, 
He gave them his verdict regarding the slum, 
The souring of which had made things hum. 
"It is", he said, and his gaze wandered far, 
"A Spanish stew, made with vinegar." 



72 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

I WAS ONE 

I WAS one of the National Guards, 
I and a thousand other pards 
Sent to the border one July 
To guard the nation and wonder why. 

I was one of a thousand men 
Who swore they would never enlist again; 
When they mustered us out, after many days, 
Of literal hell in the Mexican haze. 

I was one who was surely sore, 
"Never Again," was what I swore, 
But now that there's come another squall, 
I've answered again my country's call. 

And now that our country is in dire need, 
Of a million men of the fighting breed — 
We've been first to answer, me and my pards, 
And all the rest of the National Guards. 

We've answered the call for volunteers, 
Regardless of knowledge, service or years; 
It wasn't of fighting that we grew ill — 
'Twas simply the months of sitting still. 

Inaction's the thing that gave us a pain, 
And made us swear 'twould be never again, 
But now — if there's fighting, no matter how hard, 
The nation can count on the men of the guard. 

We've been changed and shifted for very good cause — 

But always the memory of who we was, 

Will stick to the men who belonged to the guards, 

Though we lost our names when they shuffled the cards. 

73 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



THE VITAL NEED 



MEN of the Army, listen — old and the new recruit — 
You men who are now in the army camps, learning 
to drill and shoot 
Are here for a vital purpose, here for a crying need, 
Here 'cause the nation needs you, even if you must bleed. 
Your Uncle Sammy has chosen to step from the path of peace 
Because of the cry of his allies, the cry that will never cease 
Till the power of the German Kaiser and the fear of the sub- 
marine 
Are wiped from the slate of Europe, in a manner both rapid 
and clean. 



There are some who will speak of the billions of dollars we've 
loaned away, 

To the allied powers of old Europe, so they can win the day; 

There are some who will mention the foodstuffs we have ship- 
ped to the other side, 

To help feed their struggling armies, and bring them the vic- 
tor's side — 

There are some who have howled at the nation because it 
sent powder and guns 

To help France, our sister republic, conquer and banish the 
Huns; 

There are some in this big land of freedom who think that 
this war isn't ours, 

Who have called Uncle Sammy un-neutral, for helping and 
feeding the powers. 

74 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



There are some who are very pro-German in thinking and 

voicing their acts — 
But these are the foolish pacifists, who won't see the reason 

and facts; 
But, men of the Army, listen; while I speak of a few pert things, 
Things concerning the countries that are ruled by Kaisers 

and Kings; 
Things concerning their actions and the deeds they have 

ordered done, 
Which the eyes of the world will vision after this war is won — 
Take Kaiser Bill of the Germans, plutocrat, kaiser and king, 
Ruler of sixty millions; why do his people sing? 



Sing of his acts with ardor, sing of his mighty deeds, 

Love him and do as he orders, while their country suffers 

and bleeds? 
Listen! you men of the Army, while I answer as all of them 

might — 
It's because the people of Germany believe their Kaiser is 

right. 
'Tis thus with the Austrian people, the Turk and the Portugee, 
With the French and the English millions, the Slav and the 

Arab free; 
With the Roumanian and Bulgar peasant, the Scotch and the 

Irish breed; 
With the millions of Uncle Sammy, the Mex. and the Japanese 

seed — 
They feel they are right and willing to fight, so long as they 

b'lieve in the creed. 

75 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



Love of their mother nation, bred in the blood and bone, 
Ruled by a mighty sovereign — taught in a narrow zone; 
Made to believe that the issue is one with the God above; 
Blinded and deafened to real things, nurtured with hate, 

not love. 
'Tis thus that the German people — ruled with a fist of steel — 
Facing the world with hatred, forced by a despot real 
To fight with a desperation, to slaughter and murder and kill; 
Forced by the law of tradition to bow to the Kaiser's will. 

England and France and Russia, the Jap and the Portugee, 
Roumania, Servia, Belgium, with the millions of Italy, 
Held at bay by the Kaiser, backed by the German nation, 
Fighting on land and water the balance of world creation; 
Using the deadly U boat — steel shark with its fatal breath — 
Sinking the ships of nations, sending their crews to death; 
Flying their airships and Zeppelins, dropping their bombs of 

gas; 
Using their poisoned vapors, watching the minutes pass — 

Counting the days of slaughter, singing their song of hate, 
Failing to see the writing, scrawled by the hand of Fate. 
Men of the Army, listen! I'll mention the vital thing 
That has pushed us into the world war and made us part of 

the ring 
That will close on the German nation and drive them back 

from the brink 
Of final total destruction — we are the missing link — 
Link in the chain of nations that will smother the power of 

Prussia 
And open the eyes of its people, 'till they see as they did in 

Russia. 

76 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



'Tisn't the greed of conquest, it isn't the feel of might, 

'Tis the knowledge that Uncle Sammy has chosen to do what's 

right. 
You are the men of the Eagle, you are the men who'll do; 
You are the life of our nation, wonderful men and true — 
A million like you are needed and maybe a million more, 
To fill up the armies of Uncle, now that the nation's at war. 
Men of the Army, harken — old timer and new recruit — 
You men of the countless legions dressed in your O. D. suit. 

Ye have answered the call of country, you are willing to do 

your bit; 
You have answered, " Yeoh, " at the roll call, you have showed 

where you really fit. 
You have blazed the way for the millions, you have answered 

to duty's call, 
You have placed the life of the nation above mother, sweet- 
heart and all — 
You're a wonderful bunch of humans and God, with his keener 

sight, 
Will save you a place 'mongst His legions for helping to do 

what's right. 
Democracy's war 'gainst the kaisers, the kings and the despot's 

sway, 
Will bring to the world, with banners unfurled, lasting peace 

that will never give way. 

So here's three cheers for you, men of the Army — three cheers 

for our Eagle in flight; 
We've joined the fray and we're in it to stay, 'till we prove 

to the Germans we're right. 



77 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



THE SOLDIER'S CHRISTMAS IN THE ARMY CAMP 

YOURS is the post of duty — of danger too, 
Yours is the work what only a man can do, 
So Attention! Eyes Front! — and see it through, 
All our country wishes a Merry Christmas to you. 

Your tent is not a palace home, just a canvas dwelling 
Wherein you spend the lonesome days that Fate is surely 

spelling. 
All homely is your daily fare, of beans and spuds and bread; 
It lacks the zest that banquets gave, in days that long are dead. 
The hours flit by, each with it's care, all mindful of the fray, 
'Till brightly o'er the army camp there dawns the Christmas 

day. 

Heigho! my brother, you who were so glum but yesterday, 
Throw off the dark and gloomy spell and for a while be gay. 
Let's turn the mess hall table into a gay and festive board, 
With home made pie and turkey brown and other dainties 

stored. 
Then listen to your chaplain's grace, 'ere you the meal attack, 
Let your minds fill in the things the feast does really lack. 

The turkey's real, it sure is fine, so pass your mess kit plate; 

No king e'er ate a better bird, in regal robes of state. 

Sweet potatoes, crisp and brown, oysters in a stew, 

With cranberries cooked in such a way that grandma only 

knew. 
Pies of mince, and pumpkin too, and pudding plump and 

steaming, 
Ye Gods! men of the army, it sure beats all your dreaming. 

78 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

Oh, Christmas day in the army camp will fill you all with 

cheer; 
It surely differs greatly from some others in the year, 
You are the men who must answer while your thoughts are far 

away, 
Back in the homes you came from, on this glorious Christmas 

day. 
Strive each day for contentment, 'tis an art that is almost lost, 
Try to be cheerful and happy, and forget the pain and the cost. 

Now soldiers of Uncle Sammy, just strive for the noble things; 
Learn to be simple and kindly, no matter what trouble brings. 
Remember that goodly deeds are written in letters of gold, 
And never forget the teachings your mother did once unfold. 
To every soldier of Uncle., as the hours are swiftly fleeting, 
Your country sends you a Christmas wish and a happy New 
Year greeting. 



79 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



SONG OF THE REAL GERMAN-AMERICAN 

I loved Thee, Kaiser, once — long, long ago. 
Long, long ago, my memory held you dear; 
But now your actions, Kaiser, have unveiled mine eyes. 
I have looked deep into thine, your actions, Kaiser, now are 

clear. 
I no longer wonder why it is that true love dies, 
I loved Thee, Kaiser, once — long, long ago. 

I loved Thee, Kaiser, let the dead past go, 

You shall not fill my future life with fears. 

Why shouldst I believe lie after lie, 

Or let what was darken all the coming years. 

Because I fain would break my Fatherland's dear tie, 

I loved Thee, Kaiser, once — long, long ago. 

There was a time when Germany and you 

Were looked upon by me as kind and true, 

And when I chose to cross the restless sea, 

And live my life where men are always free, 

My love for you and the Fatherland was strong, 

Der Wacht am Rhine was yet my favorite song. 

Then came the war, and as the days went by, 

I heard and saw with ear and eye, 

The things you ordered done and said, 

And now my love for you is dead. 

I loved Thee, Kaiser, once — long, long ago, 

Long, long ago my memory held you dear. 

80 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

But now, Kaiser, I have come to know. 

The path I tread before me stretches clear, 

'Tis not the country of my birth that calls, 

But the voice of Him who guides the destined fates, 

And as I watch the finger as it scrawls, 

I go to fight for my United States. 

I loved Thee, Kaiser, once — long, long ago. 



81 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



SUPPOSING AND DIDN'T 

Written for the benefit of certain narrow minded people 
who think we are committing a crime by helping England 

SUPPOSING the maw of the British Lion, 
Once opened for us full wide, 
Didn't her ally, Republican France, 
Fight with us side by side? 

Supposing Old England years ago tried 
To crush us beneath her heel, 
Didn't the French with their Fleur-de-lis, 
Show us a friendship real? 

Supposing we licked the British Lion twice, 
For pulling our Eagle's tail, 
Didn't the French, when we needed 'em bad, 
Prove that they wouldn't fail? 

Supposing the British were greedy and cruel 
In the years of the dimming past, 
Didn't the French with their Lafayette 
Help when the die was cast? 

Supposing the British and didn't the French 

Are factors that help us determine 

That watching and waiting, with submarine baiting, 

Won't do with Wilhelm, the German. 

For 

Supposing the Germans continue to sink 
All the ships on the face of the ocean? 
Supposing we sit, never doing our bit 
To help put an army in motion? 

82 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

Supposing we feel that the war isn't real, 
But simply an awful nightmare? 
Supposing we shirk all the trouble and work. 
And say that we really don't care? 
Supposing we lag and continue to brag 
We can lick everything in creation? 
Supposing we wrote another nice note 
To Bill of the bold German nation? 

Now 

Wouldn't we feel that the menace was real 

If our homes were really attacked? 

Wouldn't we rise with hate in our eyes 

If our towns were raided and sacked? 

Wouldn't We roar and feel awful sore 

If our mothers and sweethearts and wives 

Were murdered and raped, and streamers were draped, 

Of death on our loved one's lives? 

We would 

We'd rise in our might and Kaiser Bill fight, 

If only with bare clenched fist. 

We're beginning to feel that the menace is real, 

But we don't see the need to enlist. 

We brag and we lag, like a man with a jag, 

Without any reason or fear, 

But we don't realize the nearness or size, 

Or maybe we'd go volunteer. 

With England and France we'll carry the lance 

As soon as we see the real light, 

And we'll bring to the world, with banners unfurled, 

Lasting peace when we finish the fight. 

83 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



THE ROOKIE'S NIGHTMARE 



O 



k N a day so hot you'd stifle 
And the barrel upon your rifle 
Would burn a bloody blister on your hand; 
When the wind was blowing southward, 
And the sand was drifting mouthward, 
While a pall of desolation seemed to cover all the land, 

A Rookie who had weak knees, 

Overcome by sand and hot breeze, 
In the camp of Uncle Sammy 'cross the deep and briny seas, 

Decided he would slumber, 

In his tent of O. D. umber, 
On his little canvas cot, that would rest his head and knees. 

He sighed as he reclined there, 
With his thoughts upon the lone lair 
Of the Kaiser, who had caused him to be brought from home 
and friends 
To the land of sunny France, 
Where you take a fighting chance, 
In the atmosphere where shrapnel with the smoke of battle 
blends. 

He was itching to be going, 

When he heard a bugle blowing, 
And the shouting of some orders for the men to get their arms; 

Then the scurrying and hurrying, 

With the days of awful worrying, 
As the regiment he belonged to marched across the German 
farms. 

84 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

He was always in the battle, 

' Neath the bloody shrapnel rattle, 

Always where the fighting was the thickest and the worst; 
But he fought them on the level, 
Though he fought them like the devil, 

Where the shells would shriek in midair many minutes 'fore 
they burst. 



One day when they were planning 

A monstrous German tanning 
That the Huns would sure remember 'till it came their time 
to die; 

The Rookie was a standing 

Near a much used river landing, 
When the Kaiser 'cross the waters in a dugout he did spy. 



Now he didn't stop to reason, 

For the Kaiser was in season, 
He was wanted for the murders of the many millions dead; 

So he swam the chilly river, 

Though its waters made him shiver, 
And trailed old Kaiser Wilhelm to a shell hole's muddy bed. 



There with naked hands he fought him, 

Defeated him and caught him, 
Then fetched him to the Colonel, in a manner all his own; 

His brave deed was related, 

And the Rookie was elated 
When they pinned upon his bosom an honor cross that shone. 

85 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

He was given a commission, 

But through some darn fool omission 
Was only made a major for his work and nothing more; 

He felt that he'd been cheated, 

Sure insulted and mistreated, 
Which peeved him very muchly and made him awful sore. 

He was surely disappointed, 

And his mind became disjointed 
When he thought how single handed he had captured Kaiser 
Bill. 

He was sure he'd been derided, 

So one day he quick decided 
That his life blood in the trenches he would very quickly spill. 

So he grabbed his trusty knife, 

Was about to take his life 
For the way he had been treated by the whole official lot. 

When he heard an awful yell, 

And the ringing of a bell, 
Which 'woke him from his slumber, in his tent upon his cot. 



86 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



WHEN YOU FEEL THE U. S. CALLING 

DID you ever cross the ocean to a distant foreign land, 
Where you spent the days aroaming on a strange, 
peculiar strand, 
In the Alps, or Monte Carlo, or Sahara's burning sand, 
'Till you yearned for Yankee Doodle as it's played by Sousa's 
band? 

Did you ever wander far from home 'till your steps began to 

drag, 
Ever have a homesick feeling that caused your thoughts to sag, 
Ever hear a foreign subject talk and laugh and brag, 
Then catch a glimpse of bunting and see our honored flag? 

Did you ever tempt the Gods above and all the varied fates* 
While roaming in a foreign land on schedule time and dates, 
Then meet a man who shook your hand, the best of any mates, 
Who told you that he came from home — the old United States? 

Did you ever meet in old Paree a girl whose name was Hanner, 
Who said she came from dear New York, with free and easy 

manner, 
Whose father's name was Hiram Jones, the million dollar 

tanner; 
Then hear a French band play with zest the Old Star Spangled 

Banner? 

If you have — if you did — 

87 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

You'll remember Yankee Doodle, and the flag will cause you 

joy, 
And the old U. S. will call you 'till you're once again a boy, 
The foreign strand and people you will discard like a toy; 
You will board a home bound steamer and holler "Ship Ahoy". 

For, no matter where you ramble, far across the bounding sea, 
Your thoughts will always travel to the land where men are 

free; 
And the flags of foreign nations won't bring a thrill to you 
Like our own Star Spangled Banner, of red and white and blue. 

It's the only flag in all the world, it belongs to you and me, 
It represents a nation whose men are brave and free. 
The white stripes are for purity, the red to show our might, 
The stars upon a field of blue to show the world we're right. 



88 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

OFF TO FRANCE 

Dedicated to the officers and men of the United States Armies. 

MEN of the Army, you're leaving, leaving for foreign 
lands, 
Leaving the home of our nation to fight on the foreign 
strands. 
The order has come from the High Ups who sit in the Govern- 
ment chair, 
That a million of you are needed to help our allies there. 

You are ordered for foreign service to fight for your country' » 

flag; 
You belong to the choosen units, who have never been known 

to lag. 
When a crisis was facing our country, and there really was 

work to do, 
You men have proved to the nation your breed was loyal and 

true. 

When we faced the Mexican crisis and Villa was running 

amuck 
You crossed the line with your orders, never once cussing the 

luck 
That took you over the border to the land God made and 

forgot, 
Where the soul of a man gets morbid and his body is wont to 

rot. 

89 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

You've been gathered from all the corners, from city and 

country town, 
And you've drilled in the rain and sunshine with many a curse 

and frown — 
The curse for the damned inaction and the frown I think for 

the same, 
For the thought of the Hill and its freedom, you weren't at all 

to blame. 

You have prayed for the day of action and the boom of the 

monstrous guns, 
As you lined them up for battle, with the Turks and Bulgars 

and Huns. 
You have wanted to get into action somewhere in a battle 

trench, 
And now your prayer has been granted, you are going to help 

the French. 

You are going to cross the ocean and battle on foreign soil, 
Where the will of the German Kaiser has welded a Prussian 

coil, 
Where the flower of the German army is holding the world at 

bay— 
You men of the U. S. army are going to enter the fray. 

You are blazing the trail for the others, treading the path of 

right, 
Showing the German Kaiser that we are willing to fight; 
To fight with our men and money, for a cause that we know is 

true, 
Beneath our star spangled banner, the red, the white and the 

blue. 

90 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

Some of you men are old timers, some of you new recruits, 
But all of you men are real soldiers dressed in your 0. D. suits, 
You belong to the U. S. army and it's name is surely enough 
To prove to the German Kaiser that you're made of the proper 
stuff. 

You're the breed that will go into battle, with never a murmur 

or whine, 
And never give up till they kill you, a foot of the fighting line. 
The guns of the U. S. army will boom on the western front, 
Pounding the lines of the Germans, bearing their share of the 

brunt. 

Now men of the U. S. army, we're wishing you all God speed, 
You are going to fight for freedom and raise Democracy's 

creed, 
You have answered the call of country, every darn one of you, 
And when the time comes for your doing you'll do as you're 

told to do. 

This war, that has drawn the nations from every corner o 

earth, 
Will bring to the front our manhood and show them our 

country's worth, 
And you men of the XL S. army, who sail for a foreign shore, 
Will fight 'till the peace of nations is brought to the world 

once more. 

So here's to your Generals, Colonels and Majors, your Cap- 
tains and Lieutenants too, 

And here's the real wish of a nation, we're wishing for all of 
you; 

91 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

May the spirit of right never leave you, may your thoughts 

and your legs never lag, 
May you always remember your country and the home of 

your glorious flag. 

Now men of the Fighting U. S. A, we're bidding you all 

goodbye, 
And we know you will go to the war front determined to do 

or die, 
With the help of the God above you and the millions of other 

men, 
You'll fight with your might 'till lasting peace is brought to 

the world again. 



92 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



THE HUMAN FOREST 

Note — All soldiers are men. 

MEN are like trees in a forest, 
And God put them both on earth; 
Some of them giants without blemish, 

Others weak saplings at birth. 
Some of them rise above others, 

Spreading their limbs far on high; 
The majority reach the same average, 

The weaker ones struggle and die. 
Some are shattered by lightning, 

Others are rotten, yet thrive, 
Some appear shrunken and lifeless, 

When we know that they are alive. 
There are some who die in the rich soil, 

Others that thrive on a rock, 
Some are cut down for their lumber, 

Still others are felled by a shock. 
Some are marked by The Cruiser, 

While others he just passes by, 
For many a one is worthless, 

Though it holds its head near the sky. 
Some absorb all the moisture, 

Taking much more than they need, 
Killing the younger and weaker, 

Destroying the new sprouted seed. 
Some get their strength from the foul soil, 

Others draw theirs from the pure, 
While others by means artificial, 

Are enabled this life to endure. 

93 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

On some grow the fruits that are needed, 

On others the fruit is a fake, 
Still others bear fruit that is deadly, 

Killing all those who partake. 
Yes, men are like trees in a forest, 

And God put them both on the earth, 
And when the day comes for the judging, 

He will judge them all by their worth. 



94 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



THE HARD BOILED ROOKIE 

HARD Boiled as they make 'em, was red headed Dan 
When he joined the ranks of the soldier clan, 
From the slums of a city, where law puts a ban 
On all that is good in the heart of a man. 

Cuffed and kicked from childhood to youth, 

Taught an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, 

Where life is a lie that kills all the truth, 

And the big things that matter are smothered, forsooth. 

Thus was Dan when he answered the call, 
Big of bone and six feet tall, 
Naught but the mind of him was small, 
And it wasn't runted beyond recall. 

The machine gun Batt was what he drew, 
One of the bunch called the "suicide crew", 
Because of the Lewis and what it would do, 
When you fed it up to a hundred or two. 

He took to the work from the very first day, 
The drill and fatigue were to him like play, 
And just as long as he had his own way 
The lad was happy and always gay. 

But woe to the man who crossed his path, 
And did a thing that aroused his wrath, 
'Twas a battle royal for him "Who Hath" 
And to hell with the present or aftermath. 

95 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

Now our "Top" was a swelled up, ornery cuss; 
I've seen 'em better, but seldom "wuss", 
Seemed like he gloried in making a muss, 
And stirrin' up a company fuss. 

He'd roar at us men 'till our dander boiled, 

And our pleasure in life was duly spoiled, 

While our clothes were dusty and very much soiled 

By the daily drill through which we toiled. 

He was a husky and full of Pep, 

And he acted thus 'cause he had a Rep 

For keeping his men in the proper step, 

With his bulldog voice and his roaring "Hep." 

He didn't like Dan, but he understood 
That the lad could fight, and he surely could, 
So he nagged him not and treated him good 
As he knew how, for fear he would. 

But that wasn't the way he treated Jim, 
One of our squad, who was frail and slim; 
He was always getting the goat of him, 
And threatening to pull him limb from limb. 

Now the army's a place where all ain't gold, 
And a fellow learns to do as he's told, 
So we stood for the Top and the way he'd scold, 
'Till our eyes saw red and our blood ran cold. 

Came the day of the order to take a hike 
Twenty miles for men and mules on the pike; 
'Twas a thing we'd cuss, but we had to like, 
While the Top went along on a motor bike. 

96 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



We'd reached a point and were ready to drop, 
When the whistle blew for the bunch to stop, 
And there on the sands we took a flop, 
And used our sleeves for the sweat to mop. 

Jim, whom I've mentioned, pale of face, 
Had dropped behind, couldn't stand the pace, 
Though he came from an old and fighting race 
That had held their own and won a place. 

His feet were sore and his body damp 

When he reached the sight of our "Pup" tent camp, 

Where the Sergeant started to rave and stamp 

And called him a yellow, no good tramp. 

Jim took the naggin' with lips held tight, 
The same as he had every day and night, 
'Till he called Jim a name that always means fight 
And the lads eyes blazed, and his face was a sight. 

He reached the Top with one quick bound, 

Called him a bully and yellow hound, 

Hit him a crack, Oh! the joyful sound 

When he knocked him flat on the dusty ground. 

But the Top was tough if he wasn't bold, 
And he fought dirty, the way he'd scold; 
As he rose from the ground his hand took hold 
Of a big iron stake, and he knocked Jim cold. 

97 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



With a sick'ning thud he hit the sod, 
The sense of him gone, like a poor dead clod, 
And the Top just once on his body trod, 
When I heard a whoop and a "Now, by God". 

Just seen a streak as the form went by, 
Red the hair and red in the eye, 
Saw it land on the back of the Sergeant high, 
'Twas red headed Dan, the Hard Boiled Guy. 

Now there's no use describin' that fight by round, 
' Cause there wasn't but one on that dusty ground, 
Dan treated the Top like a yellow hound. 
Who was doomed to die in the city pound. 

He handled the Top in a manner quite rough, 
Made him eat all his words, and called his blufF, 
Made him say he was yellow and rotten stuff, 
'Till the Top, awful battered, hollered enough. 

'Twas six weeks later we'd all reached France, 
We were fixed in a trench just waitin' the chance 
To pepper the Huns and make 'em dance, 
When the order came for a quick advanct. 

Over the top we went that night, 
Where the rockets glared with a sudden light, 
And the big shells broke to the left and right; 
Oh! we gave 'em Hell, in a hellish fight. 

91 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

Jim was killed, with a dozen more, 
And the ground was damp with the blood and gore 
Of the German Huns — we had killed a score, 
When the Top went down on the bloody floor. 

Drilled clean through by a sharp steel nose 
That had found his body through all his clothes, 
And there in the trench of our German foes, 
The Top was left with the stark dead rows. 

Left 'till a bloody and tattered man, 
One of the last from a fighting clan, 
Happened the Top on the ground to scan, 
Imagine the soul of Hard Boiled Dan. 

He lifted the Top with hasty care 

Onto his back with a feelin' rare, 

And carried him back through the hellish glare 

To us with the Gats a waitin' there. 

Hard boiled as they make 'em was Red headed Dan, 
When he joined the ranks of our soldier clan, 
Rough and ready but built on the plan 
That makes a soldier a real, real man. 



•9 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



THOUGH PARTED 

I AM just a common soldier, 
'Mongst a million other men, 
And we're camping here in trenches 
Near the awful slaughter pen. 

But it doesn't seem to matter much 

In what land I do reside, 
Your voice the chords of absence touch, 

Your face is at my side. 

To me the tiny flowers that grow 

Beneath the shrapnel screen 
Yield a memory of your lips, 

With many sweets between. 

The dusky trench nights all remind 

Me of your glorious hair, 
The rockets bursting are your eyes 

That shone with love-light rare. 

Three thousand miles today divide 
From us the things most dear, 

Yet love dwells always in my heart, 
Exiled and doomed I fear. 

The message that I send you, girl, 
From where the big guns play, 

May cheer and bless your life again, 
As in the olden day. 

100 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

Many moons have come and gone 
Since we kissed and said good-bye, 

Your trembling arms I now recall, 
The tear drops in your eye. 

For days and months I've never failed 

To write a wee, short note, 
My love for you will never die, 

Was what I always wrote. 

Sometimes I think it hardly fair, 

Your heart strings so to wrench, 

By writing you such sentiment 
From battle field and trench. 

But when our country called for men, 

'Twas all that I could do, 
To answer with the others, 

And say good-bye to you. 

Today I saw another girl, 

Her eyes were limpid blue, 
I started when I saw her, 

She looked so much like you. 

Her smile, her hair, her features, 

Her shining eyes of blue, 
Brought back the past to me so clear, 

I thought that she was you. 

So please forgive the lad you knew. 
And forget what you have missed, 

This little French girl that I met, 
Was hugged and duly kissed. 

101 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



WILL YOU? 

(Dedicated to the Slacker.) 

YOUNG men of Uncle Sammy, will you hesitate to act, 
When your country is a calling and war is now a fact? 
Will you wait until the country has been fighting for 
a year 
Before you cease your talking and come and volunteer? 

Will you let 'em say the men and boys of Uncle Sammy's land 
Are naught but spineless humans, who lack the fighting sand? 
Will you let 'em cast aspersions on our noble ship of state, 
Because you failed to volunteer until it was too late? 

Will you sit and watch the other men a marching to the front 
To fight for Uncle Sammy and bear the work and brunt? 
Will you side step the real issue when your country is in need 
Of a million husky youngsters of the Eagle's fighting breed? 

Will you calmly read the story of the man who bravely dies 
While protecting Uncle's country from the acts of German 

spies? 
Will you shirk your vital duty when the nation needs you bad, 
And become a cowardly human, and a sneaking, cringing cad? 

Will you whine and talk and holler and show a yellow streak, 

'Cause your minds won't see the Shadow, and your knees 
are awful weak? 

Or will you change your tactics and with no thought of hesi- 
tation 

Join your fellow soldiers in the ranks of Uncle's nation? 

102 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

The Will Yous and the Won't Yous confront you all today, 

The women all are waiting for the action that will say, 

My sweetheart, son or brother is a man clear through and 

through, 
And he's gone beneath the banner of our own red, white and 

blue. 



103 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

THE ONE AND ONLY SPORT 

(As the young millionaire Rookie thinks.) 

I HAVE hunted in the mountains 
For game both large and small, 
I've hollered at a ball game 
'Till I couldn't yell at all, 
I've watched the ponies running, 

With my money bet on place, 
And have seen Jess Willard pounding 

On another fellow's face. 
I've gazed on autos racing, 

When a slip meant sudden death, 
And have rode the roller coaster, 

When I couldn't get my breath; 
I have played the games of tennis, 

Football and hockey too, 
And have stalked the lion and tiger 

Where the jungle breezes blew. 
I have also played at billiards, 

Shuffle board and pool, 
And have bumped the bumps at Coney, 

Like a crazy headed fool. 
I have sailed boats on the oceans, 

The rivers and the lakes, 
And have played the game of poker 

For mighty handsome stakes. 
I have seen 'em busting bronchos, 

And have flown in the air, 
I have ridden on a trolley 

And never paid my fare. 

104 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



At ping pong and at marbles, 

I've also tried my hand, 
And I've done Atlantic City, 

Where I heard old Sousa's band. 
I have shot craps with the fellows, 

When a seven wouldn't roll, 
And have played golf with a caddie, 

While I cussed the seventh hole. 
I have tasted some of liquors, 

Whiskey, beer and wine, 
And have watched the Dollies dancing, 

Where the lights of Broadway shine. 
I have rode the swift toboggan, 

And have skiied the snowy hill, 
I have hunted for the mallard, 

When there wasn't one to kill. 
Some of these sports are dangerous, 

But all of them are nice, 
And for every one I've mentioned, 

You will pay a given price, 
But the sport that has them cheated, 

And backed right off the hill, 
Is where you hunt the Germans 

And their bloody Kaiser Bill. 
I'm glad I joined the army, 

Left the useless, daily grind, 
Wiped from out my memory 

The things I left behind, 
I'm learning to be useful, 

And I'm sure a better sort 
Since I've joined our Uncle's army 

For the One and Only Sport. 

105 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



THE SOLDIER'S CIGARETTE 

SOMETIMES when I'm lonely I pick up my pen 
And write of the trials of the brave soldier men; 
Sometimes when I'm lonely and filled full of fret, 
I smoke in the tent a mild cigarette. 

The cigarette soothes me and brings to my mind, 
Memories of days filled with deeds that were kind, 
While the trials and the troubles, about which I write, 
Destroy all the sunshine and turn day into night. 

The life that we're leading is not full of snaps, 
From the Reveille rising 'Till the bugle blows taps, 
So I think I'll quit writing of days with regrets, 
And devote all the^time to my mild cigarettes. 



108 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



MEN OF THE ARMY WE'LL DO IT 

OH, men of the U. S. army, these words that IV* 
written here 
May cause you to doubt, but you're bound to find out 

The truth, though it may take a year. 
Our country's at war, as it was thrice before, 

With a nation across the big pond, 
And the power we now face is the strong German race, 

That is held by its Kaiser in bond. 
It is facing the world, with banners unfurled, 

It is holding our allies at bay; 
They are fighting the fight, 'cause they believe they are right, 

Regardless of things that we say. 
They continue quite strong as the days move along, 

This fact we can't longer deny, 
It's plain to be seen, that the dread submarine, 

May win them the war bye and bye. 
The English and French have reached their last trench, 

The Russians are crying for peace, 
The Swiss and the Swedes are voicing their needs, 

And praying that war will soon cease. 
The Bulgar and Turk continue to work, 

The Italians are starving they say, 
The Serbs and the Greeks are counting the weeks 

'Till the coming of peace that will stay. 
Portugal, Spain, have both felt the drain, 

And the Dutch have been threatened and cuffed, 
The Belgians have died by Roumanians side, 

While old Norway has surely been bluffed. 
The wily old Jap has been taking a nap 

107 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

While all of this slaughter occurred. 
Over there in the East he is planning a feast 

For the Future that hasn't been stirred. 
The Mexican Goose, with Villa still loose, 

Is hissing and napping it swings, 
And our Eagle's in flight, for a cause that is right, 

And war is the song that it sings. 
War on the Kaiser, who thinks he is wiser 

Than all of the nations on earth; 
His submarine war, and several things more 

Have made him belittle our worth. 
He don't give a damn for our Uncle Sam 

Because he still believes in his might, 
And he knows very well, what we don't have to tell, 

That Uncle's not ready to fight. 
We're sure unprepared in this war we've declared, 

We've little except heaps of cash, 
But we're made of the stuff that will fight, sure enough, 

As soon as we learn how to splash. 
But we've got to learn how, and we must commence now, 

To build us an army of men, 
From a million to five, if we want to survive, 

And bring the world peace once again. 
Men of the army, listen, it will take less than a year 

To gather the men from hill, dale and glen 
To battle the German fear. 
We must take the recruit and teach him to shoot, 

And show him the way he should drill. 
He must be instructed in a way well conducted 

Before he will know how to kill. 
Dicipline strong will bring him along, 

Until he's a fighting machine 

108 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

That's able to cope with a feeling of hope 

The deadly and cursed submarine. 
We'll have to send men to the big slaughter pen 

To fight for this country of ours, 
And it may take us years, and cost us some tears 

To fight with our allied powers. 
But men of the army, we'll do it, the Kaiser and Germans 

will rue it, 
We'll take our old flag, the blessed old rag, and go to Europe 

and do it, 
We'll muster a million men, if they need 'em we'll muster 

ten. 
We'll go to the front and help bear the brunt and bring 

to the world peace again. 
We'll have to leave mothers and wives, put our sweethearts 

out of our lives, 
And lucky he'll be, in this land of the free, who goes through 

it all and survives. 
Just now our army is small, but the draft will gather them all; 
The rich and the poor, will have to endure and answer the 

country's call. 
Every one of us must be a man who belongs to the fighting 

clan; 
The coward and the slacker, won't have any backer to keep 

him out of the van. 
You men who are now in the army, have blazed for others 

a trail; 
It leads through the country and cities, it winds over mountain 

and dale, 
And those who follow your footsteps in the months and the 

years to come 

109 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



Ntver will fail as they march on the trail to martial music 

and drum. 
The North will furnish it's legions, the men of the South 

won't lag, 
And the East and West will give of their best to fight for 

Uncle Sam's flag. 
Now men of the army, listen, it may be that we're unprepared, 
But the soldiers of Uncle Sammy have proved to the world 

they dared, 
To fight for the cause of freedom and battle for what is right, 
They'll do their bit and never will quit as long as the Eagle's 

in flight. 
The years to come will bring surcease, for the God of War is 

the God of peace; 
He is showing us what to do, 
And He'll guide us right in this mighty fight, for a cause 

that we know is true. 



no 



AMERICAN SQLDIER BALLABS 

THE LOVE OF COUNTRY 

THE love of country — I will give it my life. 
This old world is full of those who chatter much 
And say but little, of those who boast but never da, 
Of those who shout and rave and talk, but never act. 
Of the pleasures and painted things they will not 
Leave they tell. But when their country calls 
They ne'er respond. The ever present emptiness 
Of heart and soul, which makes a farce of life, 
And jars it with a false note of hypocrisy; 
All this I leave behind, not suddenly, nor without 
A feeling of keen remorse for what I really like, 
Nor because I tire of worldly things that bring me joy, 
But because my country needs me with a million more, 
And I crave to be of use where men are needed. 
I long for just one chance to smite old Kaiser Bill 
A vital blow, that when struck will bring a lasting 
Peace to this old planet on which I live and laugh and love. 
To those who shirk and hide and fail to do 
Their bit, I speak these words, "You all are cowards. 
You would sit and fail to raise a helping hand 
While Uncle Sam was kicked and mauled and spat upon. " 
Give me the chance to do was all I asked. They gave, 
And when it did come my turn I did not hesitate to act. 
I left my home, my mother and the girl I loved, 
And now each day I drill and sweat and learn to shoot 
A gun, and the white arms of her that 'round my neck entwined 
When I said good bye — I feel, and the lips of her, pressed 
To mine, whisper that she understood just why, 
And, understanding, shared with me the patriotie spirit 
That bid me go unto the front and fight, and if 
Necessary to die for my country which I love. 

ill 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



"OF ME UND GOTT", THE KAISER SANG 

OF "Me und Gott", the Kaiser sang, 
In voice both loud and clear, 
'Twas when Victoria ruled the Isles, 
And filled his soul with fear. 
Her mighty fleet then ruled the seas, 

They rule them yet, I wot, 
They've bottled in the Keil Canal, 
The ships of "Me und Gott". 

Of "Me und Gott", the Kaiser sang, 

His voice was never hushed. 
His mighty legions, Bismark's boast, 

The flower of France had crushed, 
But now the people that he whipped, 

In Alsace and Lorraine, 
Have driven from him his "Goot Gott", 

And filled his soul with pain. 

Of "Me und Gott" the Kaiser sang, 

His words were always boasts, 
He laughed and sneered at Russia's land. 

And belittled all their hosts, 
But now the Russians hold his lines, 

Though three million he has killed, 
And "Me und Gott" no longer reign 

Where all this blood's been spilled. 

Of "Me und Gott", the Kaiser sang, 
When Belgium felt his heel, 

112 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

Most ev'ry day the song was heard, 

From Dardenelles to Keil, 
When Roumania lost her fertile plains, 

When Servian kingdom fell, 
'Twas "Me und Gott", the Kaiser sang, 

Not the "Devil, Me und Hell". 

Of "Me und Gott", the Kaiser sang, 

The song rang through creation; 
He sang it when his submarines, 

Sunk boats of ev'ry nation, 
He sang it when our ships were sunk, 

Our sons and daughters drowned, 
When Uncle Sam was passive, 

And the Nation merely frowned. 

But now the Kaiser's ceased to sing, 

His song is never heard, 
'Cause Uncle sure is angry, 

And his fighting blood is stirred. 
The Kaiser started something, 

That he always will regret, 
For when this war is finished, 

He will need "His Gott", you bet. 



113 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



ONE OF THE MILLIONS 

HERE lies a soldier — name unknown, 
Grave just marked by a pile of stone. 
He died for the country that gave him birth, 
To him 'twas the best on the face of the earth, 
He answered the call of his native land, 
Though the call he never could understand. 
This soldier once had a place in life, 
Played his part during peace and strife, 
Had his hopes and his joys and fears, 
Tasted of love with its smiles and tears, 
But he careth little methinks today, 
Now that he's dead and laid away 
In a grave that is marked by a pile of stone, 
Nameless, forsaken, but not alone. 
"Here lies a soldier", with a million more, 
Victim of Power and Greed and War. 



114 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

THE EAGLE'S SONG 
The Song of the Hundred Million 

Whoo-Whee-Ya Whoo-Whee-Ya Whoo-Whee-Ya — 

HEAR the Eagle! Hear him screeching ! 
See him winging far on high, 
Hear the flapping of his feathered wings, 
See the flashing of his eye. 
The dove of peace has vanished, 

The olive branch is bare, 
All peaceful thoughts are banished, 
The Eagle's in the air. 

Whoo-Whee-Ya Whoo-Whee-Ya Whoo Whee-Ya— 

'Tis Uncle Sammy's Eagle, 

The noblest of all birds; 
He is flying o'er the country, 

He is screeching fighting words. 
His wings are flapping awful, 

His eye is flashing fire, 
He is fighting with the nation 

That filled his soul with ire. 

Whoo-Whee-Ya Whoo-Whee-Ya — -Whoo-Whee-Ya— 

His tail is shy some feathers, 

But his wings are mighty strong; 
His beak is snapping loudly, 

As he sings the old war song, 
His fighting blood is coursing, 

And he's calling to his men, 
'Cause the gun and sword of battle 

Have replaced the ink and pen. 
Whoo-Whee-Ya Whoo-Whee-Ya Whoo-Whee-Ya— 

115 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



HOT BRICKS VS. COLD FEET 

An incident in the life of a certain regular army officer, 
that occurred while on detached service with a certain National 
Guard Organization while on duty on the Mexican Border, 
January, 1917. 

THIS is a story founded on fact, 
And the telling of it requires some tact; 
It won't bring the captain glory or fame, 
So I'll never mention his real, real name. 

It seems on these bright, cool winter nights, 
When the Milky Way all the Heaven lights, 
That the frost descends with a chilling hand, 
And chills the soldier to beat the band. 

It chills some through when they've been to town 
With a dear little girl, quite neat, 
As they return to camp in the wee, sma' hours 
With a chill in both of their feet. 

It happened thus with this captain bold, 

That he came to his tent with his feet quite cold, 

That he had cold feet was a funny fix; 

It surprised them all, for he sure could mix. 

But his feet were cold as a country hicks, 
So he ordered his man to heat some bricks, 
To heat some bricks until they were hot, 
And place the same on the foot of his cot. 

116 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



Now the man when he learned Cap's feet were cold, 
Heated the bricks as he'd been told, 
And when they were heated and paper wrapped 
Took them to the tent where the captain napped. 

And wrapped in paper the bricks with heat, 
Were tucked in close to the captain's feet, 
The captain he scented a burning smell, 
And asked the orderly if all was well. 

"Tis only the ink on the paper, sir, 
That the heat of the bricks has started to stir, 
For I heated the bricks with an awful heat 
To take the chill from your poor, cold feet." 

The satisfied captain closed his eye 

And went to sleep with a peaceful sigh, 

And he dreamed of the damsel so trim and neat, 

The one he was with when he got cold feet. 

Just what was the time the captain awoke 

In his little brown tent that was filled with smoke 

Will never be known, for he can't tell, 

'Cause his mind was jumbled with visions of Hell. 

The cotton mattress had caught afire, 

And his coat had burned on the hot brick pyre, 

His feet were blistered and awful hot, 

And the canvas was burned on his army cot. 

117 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

Two blankets were ruined in a manner neat, 
But the cold was gone from the captain's feet, 
And he swore and oath, did this captain bold, 
That never again would his feet get cold. 

Now cold in your feet is an awful thing, 
And the army tent has a frosty sting, 
While the chill, cold nights with a girl alone, 
Will often chill your feet to the bone. 

But never again will this captain bold 
Use hot bricks when his feet are cold, 
For never again will he have cold feet 
When out with a damsel, trim and neat. 

Now forget what I've written, re the captain's fix, 
The cold in the feet and the heat in the bricks, 
Let's all have a drink of a brand that is mellow, 
For the captain's a prince and a darn good fellow. 



lit 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



WHY HE ENLISTED 

The Old Top's Reason. 

YOU ask me why I left me job, you want to know real bad, 
Want to know why I'm a soldier? Well, I will tell 
ye lad. 
Just squat yourself upon the cot and listen while I speil, 
And when I'm through I think you'll say my reason sure was 
real. 

I'm forty years, come April month, forty years and gray, 
And all my life I've had to work with little time for play. 
For twenty years I've toiled and toiled, early hours and late, 
Toiled for a mother old and gray and a crippled sister, Kate. 

Kate, she died just six years back, a blessing sure was meant; 
And mother's time soon followed Kate's, last year was when 

she went. 
And I was left alone, my lad, to toil and work and slave, 
With just one kin, a brother, lad, whose given name was Dave. 

Now Dave, he was a wild one, just young and full of hell. 
He'd work, get drunk, quit his job, then work another spell, 
Good lookin', yes. Had taking ways with all the women kind; 
Had everything a man could want, except he lacked a mind. 

That is his mind was there, my lad, but it was warped and small, 
His thinkin' powers were runted, his actions never tall. 
But somehow little Nellie thought that Dave was all pure gold, 
She married him, God bless her soul, for her I was too old. 

119 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



Yet, lad, I loved that little girl with a love that was sublime, 
But brother Dave he butted in and simply beat my time. 
She was happy, lad, for 'bout a year, then Dave he went plumb 

wild, 
He left her all alone, the skunk, her and her little child. 

He vanished from his daily haunts, the halls of booze and dance 
And nary a word for two long years, 'till a letter came from 

France. 
We read that letter, her and me, 'twas from a friend of Dave; 
He told of how my brother died and where to find his grave. 

Killed by the Huns in action, fightin' with the Princess Pats, 
When a bloomin' bit of screechin' shell caved in most all his 

slats. 
Dave were no coward, that much I'll say, he just was full of 

hell; 
He didn't mean to do no harm when he deserted Nell. 

He simply lacked the brains, me lad, to give him common sense, 
His mind was all befuddled, his thinkin' powers were dense. 
The blood of him was runnin' wild, he liked to drink and dance, 
But when they needed men to fight, he took the fighter's 
chance. 

A year went by, I slaved and toiled and kept his child and wife, 
And then I asked her one bright day if she would share my life. 
She bowed her head and shed some tears and then she an- 
swered yes. 
Was I happy? Can you ask? You know I was, I guess. 

120 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

I'd loved her lad for five long years, five years of pain and grief; 
Why, when she wedded brother Dave, I called the lad a thief, 
But I was old and they were young, and youth will have its 

day. 
I simply bowed my head to Fate and chased the tears away. 

The day was set, the future bright for Nell, whom I adore, 
When Wilson stopped his peaceful talk and said we were at war. 
We had to fight to save our skins and lick the German Hun, 
The country needed all its men to fight with sword and gun. 

I went to Nell. We talked it o'er; she told me what to do. 
That's why I'm here today, my lad, with all the rest of you. 
Happiness, the girl I love, and all my peaceful creed 
I left behind when country called and Uncle was in need. 

She's going to wait for me, my lad, she promised that she would, 
The love I have for her, my lad, I know she understood. 
'Cause 'fore I left to come and join with all you other men 
She kissed me once upon the lips and said, "God bless you, 
Ben." 

Over the Top we're going to go and give the Germans hell, 
And when we do my thoughts will be back home with little Nell, 
And just the thought will make me fight with all my might and 

main, 
So I'll be able to get through and see my Nell again. 



121 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



WHEN WE MAKE THE KAISER RUN 

IT isn't the things we want to do here in the shining sun, 
It isn't the things they make us do that cause the per- 
petual fun, 
It isn't the drill or the morning hike, with full canteen and gun, 
It's the thought of the Kaiser beating it quick when we get 
him on the run. 

He'll sure be sick when he doubles it quick for his mouldy 

castle retreat, 
And he'll make us smile when he runs a mile with a cramp in 

both his feet. 
We'll follow him strong as he marches along, twenty-four 

hours a day, 
And we'll keep him quiet, on a cold lead diet, and he won't 

have much to say. 

We will cross his lines when we get the signs, and we'll sure 

set a pace that's hot, 
We'll chase the old Kaiser and show him we're wiser than all 

of his big German lot. 
'Neath the roar of the guns this king of the Huns will break all 

records for speed, 
He'll set a grand pace, it will be a swift race but we'll get him 

with all of his breed. 

He'll be so darn weak that he wont dare to speak, this scholar 

of murder and sin, 
When we take his retreats and march on the streets of his 

cherished and wicked Berlin. 

122 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 

And it won't take very much to put him in touch with a thing 

that will keep his hands tied, 
When he hears our feet tramp he will sure have a cramp and 

suffer a blow to his pride. 

When the order once comes, no thought of drums will muster 

the acts of our feet, 
We'll go over the top, and we never will stop 'till Bill, the cruel 

Kaiser, is beat. 
When it's double quick march, full of pep and of starch, our 

footsteps never will lag, 
We may stagger and stumble and holler and grumble, but 

we'll follow our glorious flag. 

We will go in a trice and we'll think it is nice, a feeling you 

never will beat, 
And we'll get the Hun's goats, and their submarine boats and 

also their big battle fleet. 
Ice water'll be banned, and cold pop be canned, no candy or 

cookies with borders, 
Ice cream they'll taboo and grape juice they'll shoo, all by the 

general orders. 

Along with the French, we will take the last trench where the 

Germans are standing at bay, 
And the damned German Hun and their Kaiser will run when 

we enter the battle that day. 
So it isn't the drill or the morning hike, with full canteen and 

gun, 
It's the thought of the Kaiser beating it quick when we get 

him on the run. 



123 



AMERICAN SOLDIER BALLADS 



OUR BOYS WHO'VE GONE AWAY 

IT'S lonesome now in all the towns. Lads who just yester- 
day 
Were care free boys, a singing and laughing at their play, 
Boys who met each week-day night and laid the future plan 
For all the things they planned to do when each became a man 
Have vanished from their daily haunts, the base-ball field 

and dam. 
They have gone to join the colors and fight for Uncle Sam. 

They have gone to join the colors in the Guards, the Regs and 

Draft, 
They volunteered for service when the slackers sneered and 

laughed. 
They joined their different units, and smiled before they went 
To join Uncle's soldiers who across the seas were sent 
To the battle fields of Europe, on the plains of Sunny France, 
Where they will fight for Uncle and take a soldier's chance. 

It's lonesome now that they have gone, those youngsters full 

of fun, 
Gone to fight for freedom and battle with the Hun, 
It's lonesome as the dickens, since they have gone away. 
These khaki covered fighting men were boys but yesterday, 
And every soul in Uncle's land sends a message to them all, 
God Bless the men of Uncle Sam who answered to the call. 



124 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Sept. 2009 

PreservationTechnologies 

A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 

111 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
(724)779-2111 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




